Of Crimson Defense
by ShadeOfMidna
Summary: New York and Manhattan are terrorized by ruthless assassins, leaving the lives of earth in the Avengers' hands once again. Hyrule is starting to see hatred trying to regrow upon its holy land, forcing the goddesses to take action and send Link on a quest to earth. Unbeknownst to both sides, however, something strong than they could've possibly comprehended is beginning to flourish.
1. Chapter 1: En Garde!

**So, I'm acknowledging the fact that some of you guys don't actually read any of the PJO series, so I've decided to be gracious and write this crossover (yes, I know this means that I have more on my plate to finish, but meh). In order to deliver more happiness, along with a bit more cringeness, I am writing this crossover. Read on my Dorkchops. UWU**

* * *

**Chapter 1: **_**En Garde!**_

_Steve's POV_

Rogers was sitting down at a long table in between a scowling Tony and a slightly amused Natasha. It had been approximately two months since the Chitauri had been swept away, and none of the Avengers had seen eachother since (well, except for the occasional run-in). Steve had been called by Fury that afternoon for an urgent meeting, though none of them knew what it was about yet.

The director in question was sitting down at the head of the table, staring in an aggravated way at a small, two-paper file.

"What is this about, Fury?"

Steve turned towards Banner, who had broken the silence from across the table. "I have to agree with ; why have you called us here, if I may ask?" he helped.

He looked up from the papers, stood up, and then threw both papers onto the table. Nat snatched one up, holding it upright in front of her so that those sitting near her could see; her eyes moved from left to right, reading the file. Steve decided to follow her example, reading the file in her hand:

"_S.H.I.E.L.D. Report_

_ "Multiple individuals have been seen in the past week tormenting the people of New York, along with Manhattan. All agents should be aware of the fact that they usually wear red clothes, favoring white masks with an upside down red eye in the middle. Witnesses have informed the authorities (some being under-cover agents) that these offenders usually wield weapons such as scyths, bows (with arrows), swords, and an assortment of weapons that are believed to have originated in Asia. So far, ten victims have been found (dead), while some missing persons are believed to share the same death. Every victim shows evidence of being quickly searched before being dumped in an area not too far away from the scene of the murder. No items have been observed to be taken yet, but that is still being questioned._

_ "It is under speculation that the offenders are well trained assassins, considering the fact that each of them wear the same clothing, except for a select few that are taller and show a more muscular appearance (note:these few only wield a large, two-handed katana-style sword). Some witnesses have stated that they were able to observe them speaking among themselves in an unknown language; witness Elman Odbang __**(this is a Evillious Chronicles character, btw) **__described the language as 'oddly close to Japanese, but possibly jointed with Latin,' prior to becoming a victim to the possible-assassins before further investigation._

"_S.H.I.E.L.D. has already been informed of the situation, and is trying to investigate away from the public eye. All agents have already been informed and deployed to their proper stations until further notice. All of New York and Manhattan, along with all surrounding areas, are regularly being patrolled and inspected in order to find any of the suspected assassins."_

Steve looked up from the paper at the rest of the team, observing their reactions. Just as expected, most of them portrayed faces of shock and disgust, some even looking at it like a stain on a white shirt; a _nuisance_.

"Okay, so if I'm correct," Tony exclaimed sarcastically, obviously amused, "we are dealing with the Foot Clan. I wonder if Shredder will autograph my suit!"

Everyone stared at him blankly.

"What? You guys haven't heard of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles before? _Come on_; I can understand that Capsicle wouldn't, but that's just tasteless-"

"As much as I _love _your references, Stark," Fury sighed, "I do _not _want to hear them while we are being threatened by _unknown assassins._"

He scoffed. "Thanks, Eyepatch. Speaking of eyepatches, may I say, yours looks _lovely _today. Have you ever considered using pink? It would just go _perfectly _with the lack of color in your wardrobe. Oh, wait; you don't _have _much of a wardrobe, do you?"

The half-blind man narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw to keep from saying something that he would regret. "_On with the problem_, we are concerned about the fact that these assassins are Hydra agents."

"They do where red . . ." Nat thought aloud.

"Correct, Agent Romanoff," he praised. "We have no other information about them than what is in that file. None of them wear the Hydra emblem, so it is still debatable as to whether they are an independent group or not. But we do know one thing, for sure: they are _definitely _targeting someone, or some_thing_."

"What makes you think this?" Thor asked, sitting at the opposite end of the table.

"Well," Fury explained impatiently, "as the file _stated_, all victims found _so far_ showed signs of being searched quickly, and none of the valuable items they possessed were taken. That file is currently being updated, but another witness that was later murdered told the police that they overheard them speaking, in _english_, about how they had to find a 'relic' that could help them defeat a certain person. Whoever that person is, we're also searching for them; they may be the end of this problem, one way or the other."

Steve stared, wide-eyed, at him. "That's . . . wrong, Fury. You . . . you aren't going to use the person as a peace offering, are you?"

"As much as I wouldn't want it to come to that, it _might_."

Clint sighed in annoyance. "You really are heartless, sometimes."

"I didn't _ask _for you opinion, Agent Barton."

"We have freedom of speech in this country," he deflected, crossing his arms and leaned back in his chair, "and I like to use it."

Banner cleared his throat, trying to stop something violent. "What exactly do you want to do about them?"

Fury's eyes snapped in his direction. "Well,_ I would like_ for you to stop them from attacking more people, and find out what they were trying to find. And when I say _like_, I mean-"

"-it's our job and you hold us accountable for any more murders. Yeah, yeah, we know," Tony interrupted. "And I'm sure that we all agree, right?"

Everyone at the table scanned each other's faces, considering such. Steve definitely had to agree to such; they couldn't just let these horrible people run around killing people. Not only was killing a person wrong (under most circumstances, that is), it was messy and would cause panic all around the country; even if it was just in those two places. Word could spread quickly, and it was only natural for common people to spread rumors and run around like chickens without their heads.

"See?"

_Link's POV_

The young hylian stared expectantly at the forest in front of him.

_"Farore told you that the Yiga were trying to find a weapon in another world," Princess Zelda had told him, a worried look in her vibrant-green eyes. "I may be a descendant of Hylia, but that doesn't mean that I'm above the other goddesses. You _must _go there, even if I fear for you. Just be careful, _please _be careful!"_

He sighed; he felt _awful _going on another question. Not because it would hurt him-he was forged to keep on fighting-but because he didn't want Zelda to worry about him again. Although they'd both made it out of the Calamity's malice alive, it had still taken its toll on both of them. Hyrule Castle was already being reconstructed-in fact, it was almost completed, and both were able to live there-and, because of Zelda being the remains of the Royal Family, she was trying harder than ever to reestablish the once-decaying kingdom. They were regaining the army, a court of well trusted individuals was already in function, and the representatives and Champions of each race had already been acknowledged and selected. All that was left was another quest, even if it further tormented them.

Link blinked himself out of his recollection of the events that had transpired in the past two months. Hyrule was surviving strong and steady, similar to the heartbeats of each of its residents; they could not fail now. The Yiga Clan were still around, but they were scattered and their numbers had depleted greatly in that amount of time. So, when the two Triforce-wielders discovered their plans, they had no other choice but to follow what Farore advised them to do.

Taking a step forward, he felt the moonlit dew on the grass slide on the leather of his boots. This forest was so familiar to him . . . it was the place where he learned how to hunt and cook again, along with how to fight, too. The Old Man-no, _King Rhoam_-had taught him these things with a still heart, his intentions to help the suffering-hero being pure **(no, I am not shipping them; I'm acknowledging the fallen)**.

The snap of a twig made his ears twitch. Link turned in the direction of the sound, seeing a hog that hadn't noticed him yet. He had no need for a meal yet, so he let the creature stroll away, probably to eat some berries, or something. Making sure it was nowhere near him anymore, the hylian was on his way to Mount Hylia. Farore had told him before that if he wanted to stop the Yiga, he would have to find a portal at the King's gravestone. This would be his third time visiting _earth_; a land similar to his, but not quite. The cities smelled like pollution, and the buildings were the source of such a thing. Every street was bustling with odd carriages-_cars_, Farore called them. As part of his own safety, the portal only opened at night, and the goddess had taught Zelda and him as much about the place as possible.

After thirty more minutes of walking, he was able to feel the crunch of snow under his feet. Luckily, he was already wearing the Snowquill Tunic that he had obtained in Rito Village; he still had the doublet he had earned from King Rhoam, but it was torn and damaged in so many places that it wasn't worth any money or use. Link didn't want to sell it, anyway; it was something he had earned from cooking, so he was in no hurry to part with it.

He arrived at the gravestone that the King had once been standing next to; three small stones, with a tall and narrow one placed upright in between them. Link brushed the snow away from its surface, as if expecting there to be words engraved in the stone. It was a tradition that he had come up with for each time that he visited the mountain. It had no true meaning, really; it just felt right to do. Link looked to his left at a now-formed portal.

His brilliant blue eyes looked sea-green from the glow of the magic. "Goodbye, Hyrule," he muttered in Hylian Tongue under his breath.

* * *

Link didn't understand why the humans of earth favored so much technology over nature. The few animals he had seen looked either too pampered (similar to their owners), or digging desperately in a dumpster. It broke his heart to see such, but he had been told to not interfere with such, so he kept his mouth shut about it. And the _people_; they were almost an exact reflection of such. It was . . . horrible, to say the least.

However, the real reason why he was there was to bring an end to the Yiga; _not _poverty. They were searching for a piece of technology that had been left behind by a race that had tried to invade earth a few months prior, so-naturally-Link was sent to bring that all to an end.

He was standing on the top of an old, abandoned building **(it's always the abandoned buildings, eh?)**, waiting for them to arrive. Whether they were planning on assassinating a person there, meeting a person, or scavenging for the artifacts, he had no idea; all he knew was that they would arrive and that they were driven by something impure. The muffled tapping of feet on the pavement next to the building caught Link's attention.

"So, are they here yet?" a deep voice rumbled.

The hylian moved towards the edge of the building quietly, peeking hesitantly over at the source of the noise. Standing below were two men; one being tall and broad shouldered, with dark skin, and the other being a few inches shorter with a thin, pencil like appearance. Many people in suits milled around them as discreetly as possible, carrying boxes and capsules with them into the building.

"No, sir," the thinner man answered obediently, readjusting the fedora on his head. "But, do not stress anything; we are a tad early."

_Sophisticated speech and clothes; they must be wealthy or of high respects to be doing business with the Yiga, _Link noted. _Well, that is _if _they are trading with the Yiga._

The man who seemed to be his employer huffed in annoyance. "Alright. But if they aren't here by eleven, sharp-like I _requested_-the rest of it will be up to."

"What do you mean, if I may ask, sir?"

"I'll return to base, _Abelard_," he growled, turning around on his heel; not before rolling his eyes, though. "Abelard" followed behind him, dodging a few of the many men running around with packages; he looked awfully nervous. "Did you make sure to bring all of the equipment I requested for the exchange?"

"Y-yes, sir! I checked over everything with the Hydra agents; we managed to scrape together a few-"

"Good. Are their any-ah . . . setbacks?" he interrupted.

"No, sir. We have found no signs of _them _sabotaging the exchange."

"Wonderful," the man exclaimed, flashing a cruel smile. Abelard opened the door to the building for him, and he stepped in. "Hail Hydra!"

"Hail Hydra!"

Link stood up and stretched; short he may be, but that didn't mean that crouching down like that didn't aggravate his muscles. Thanks to the dark night, none of the people noticed him. He walked back over to the small, glass roof opening and looked back down. A few of the men from outside were now setting many instruments up around the space of the top floor, six or seven draping white lab coats over their shoulders. Link had no idea as to why they would need such for a simple trade (if it could be called that), unless they were going to provide a demonstration. Whatever happened, he knew blood would be spilled.

He turned his head to one side, listening to a new conversation below. Even for his pointed ears, it was very hard to hear, but he managed. All he caught was _arrived_, _so long_, and _come in_. Taking that as a hint enough, he deduced that the Yiga had made it. Horrah.

Link looked back down, red meeting the black and white of the room-only in the form of clothing, though. There wasn't much to do now but wait for them to trade and leave; _then _the hard part would begin.

_Thor's POV_

"Can you please explain to me why we can't bring Sir Banner, again?" Thor asked from the back of the van.

Tony sighed impatiently, fiddling with the buttons on multiple screens. "We want to keep the damage to a minimum, _alright_? Do you recall what Manhattan looked like after the Chitauri?"

"To be fair, that wasn't his fault."

"Eh, so-so."

He fidgeted uncomfortably; a van this size was _definitely_ not appropriate for a man-or _god_-of his size. Why did the assassins have to take so long?

"Thor," Lady Natasha called from the passenger's seat, up front, "please stop bouncing your knee; you're making the van shake."

Thor noticed that he was moving so much and obliged. "Sorry," he muttered under his breath. Steve leaned forward in the driver's side seat, then looked back at them.

"I think they're here," he exclaimed.

Clint, who was sitting on one of the benches across from the god, made his way to the front, looking through the windshield. "Are those Hydra agents, Nat, or am I going insane?"

The spy raised an eyebrow, probably considering this, but answered him. "Yes, those are definitely Hydra personnel."

Tony pressed his hand to the collar of his metal suit, resulting in the head piece folding over his face. "So, are we going to attack, or what?"

Sir Rogers drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, obviously trying to decide. "Nat?"

"Yes; Clint, take out any sentries. Thor, if we go and there are any hostiles in the way, you know what to do **(I felt like a spy just by writing that)**," Natasha advised.

Thor's grip on his hammer tightened, ready to bash some heads in **(Tyson rip-off, I know)**. "Yes, Lady Natasha."

"And, what about us?" Tony asked, gesturing towards Nat, Steve, and himself.

"Do the rest," Steve answered.

"What is 'the rest-'"

"He means we'll bargain for information and end the mission," the spy answered, her lips tugging upward.

"_Wow_, that was such an _elegant _description, ! Have you ever considered being an orator?" Tony beamed sarcastically.

She turned around to glare at him, her green eyes boiling with temporary resentment. "Don't."

* * *

Thor stared at Clint, who had just ended four or five sentries, without batting an eye. "Do you need any help?"

The agent glanced at him, amusement glittering in his eyes. "No."

"Alright, then."

Natasha opened the door, which was now vacant of any security. "After you, gentlemen."

Thor walked in first-being the braun, and all-and looked down a long, winding hallway. No doors; no agents. Nothing.

"That's . . . quite out of the ordinary," he exclaimed.

"What is out of the ordinary?" Steve asked.

"There's nothing here."

"What?" Tony shoved past him, standing directly in front of him-he didn't have to see his eyes to know that he was inspecting either sides. "There _isn't _anything here!"

"Did you think that I was wrong?"

Silence. "Maybe."

Clint pushed past Thor and walked to the left, an arrow noched and ready. "Slowpokes," he muttered in an amused tone under his breath.

Thor followed, cursing his tendency to pull them off track; it was obnoxious to all of them. The archer in front of him took a sharp turn to the right, his grip on the arrow visibly tightening. As the god turned the corner, he had to walk to the side in order to not run into him; he'd stopped in the middle of the hallway. The hallway they were in was short, and opened into a larger room filled with equipment, weapons, and . . . blood.

"What the hell . . . ?" Tony murmured from somewhere behind them.

Clint took a deep breath and kept moving, inspecting the mangled corpses that crossed paths with him-or was it the other way around? Thor followed his example and made sure to continue on with confidence, even if he was shocked by the new grimness of the situation. He saw the bodies of men dressed in red jumpsuits, some having sicles or another weapon hanging loosely from their limp hands; the other bodies were of men wearing once-clean suits, which were now drowned in crimson and an endless amount of gashes. Each one of them were completely limp, their eyes glazed over and their ears listening to nothing.

"Looks like we aren't the only people chasing down those _assassins_," Natasha observed, placing one of her hands on her hips.

He could almost hear Steve beam with realization. "Didn't Fury say that a person overheard them talking about an enemy of theirs'?"

"Yeah? Why do you ask?" Clint asked, turning his head in his direction.

"Well . . . this is just me assuming, but . . ."

"You think that this 'enemy' is the one who slaughtered the assassins, along with a bonus of Hydra agents?" Tony finished for him, impatience sharpening his voice.

"Yes, but if the sentries outside were untouched until we came, wouldn't that mean that the person could still be inside?"

The noise of an arrow hitting its mark sounded from behind them. On instinct, Thor turned just in time to see an assassin with an arrow jutting from his throat, and a figure running down the opposite hall at an inhuman speed. Thor ran past the part of the group behind him, chasing after the person, despite their shouts of protest. He _was not_ scared of this person; he knew that he should, but he just couldn't find the dignity to feel such. If they really had done that to their enemies, then he was ready to set things right. One way or the other.

"Stop!" Thor bellowed, preparing himself to throw his hammer. "I _will _attack you!"

The person paid him no mind and rushed down another corridor, the pace they chose not changing in the slightest. True to his word, he chunked the hammer with all of his strength, but it missed the target greatly; it fell unceremoniously to the floor, but not before slamming into one of the walls. He ran past it, knowing that he could just bring it back to his hand with little effort.

The person took another turn, stopping in front of a dead end. He turned back towards him, giving Thor a good enough look of him; he was wearing a black and white cloak, a light blue tunic, beige pants, and brown boots. However, because of this, Thor was not able to see what the person's face looked like. All he could tell was that the person was most likely male, and not very broad shouldered (which he took as a hint of the person probably being a teenager). Splattered blood tainted the blue of his tunic, and whether it was his blood or that of the people he had slaughtered, Thor did not know. A bloodied sword and shield complimented his clothes well.  
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the god questioned, his expression turning more hostile by the second. "What do you want from these people?!"

The person didn't show any sign of acknowledgement, the grip on their weapons tightening.

"Thor?" Steve asked, the rest of the group behind him as he rounded the corner. "What-" He paused, noticing the person in front of them.

The person now chose to acknowledge their numbers, the **(in the)** hood of their cloak moving a bit, showing that they must be looking around them for an escape route. Obviously, considering the fact that he was cornered, there was no other way to go; despite this, he still held his weapons at the ready. Seeing this as inspiration, Thor charged at the person, his hand out to catch his hammer. When he went to go strike the person, though, they were no longer there. He slammed into the wall, turning around in time to get a kick to the face.

_Alright_, he thought as he turned around all the way, his nose spurting blood. _Martial arts; I can work with that_.

He spun around quickly, again missing the prefered target. The person jumped back, then stabbed forward with the well-crafted sword in their right hand. Thor managed to dodge, yes, but the person flicked it skillfully, grazing his ribs. The god glare menacingly at them, his eyes darkening with pure rage. Before he could humiliate himself further, however, another arrow found its mark.

The mark of the arrow happened to be in that person's shoulder

The person stumbled, bringing their left hand to their bloody shoulder; the sword in their hand now hung loosely at his side. Besides this, the person ignored the wound, switched hands, and ran in the direction of the rest of the group. Tony's blaster **(can't remember what it's called, just gonna go with that)** hummed in high pitched tone, glowing brighter in little time. The person merely jumped over him, front-flipping before landing gracefully on their feet; he didn't even waste a moment before he started running again. The soldier had to aim his hand at the roof to avoid hitting the rest of the team. Clint let loose another arrow, but the person dodged and kept on running, quickly evading Steve's attempt to subdue him.

Natasha, however, had a better plan. She quickly performed a quick draw with on of her pistols, shooting at the person while running after them. Contrary to logic, the person moved faster than her, slipping past each of her attempts to shoot him. With all of the team chasing him, he had little to no place to go; in fact, the only exits were either the front or the glass ceiling, as far as Thor knew. The person turned so sharply that Thor almost tripped and fell, but managed to turn in a less extreme way. Before he knew it, they had burst into the area where all of the bodies were.

"Stop!" Steve demanded, slowing down a bit.

They kept on running, their pace not changing.

The soldier flung his shield in the direction of the person, the red-white-and-blue surface barely missing their head. They skidded to a halt, dodging the shield a second time as it returned to Cap.

"Stop," he asked again in calmer tone.

He may have stopped, but his weapons still gleamed threateningly in the moonlight.

"Drop your weapons."

He did not drop his weapons.

"_Drop you weapons_," Steve repeated, emphasizing the words for a little more effect.

He heard a sigh of annoyance from their direction, and based off of the situation, Thor guessed that he had gotten the closest thing to the person talking outright.

"Have it your way." He quickly moved his shield to the side, revealing a tranquiliser gun; as expected, he fired without hesitation. The intended target batted the projectile out of the air with no signs of struggle, and turned back to him. Thor glared at him; was this man vulnerable to _anything_?!

_Wait . . . those assassins . . . they were looking for a relic . . ._

Before he could completely get his shit together, Tony snapped. "Why did you kill them?!" he asked, gesturing towards the mauled corpses. "Who are they after?! Why won't you _answer _us? Better yet, who _are _you?!"

The hood twitched a bit, showing that the person was probably regarding the bodies; he could almost feel him frown. "You're him, aren't you?" Thor asked, the explanation dawning on him; he felt like holes were being drilled into his head. "You're who they were looking for; their enemy."

The person took a step back, obviously confused.

"If that is so, then you need to come with us," Thor explained. "We can help you fight them, if you want."

Another twitch of the hood; he was looking around, again. "I wouldn't recommend running away. You'll get your ass kicked," Tony stated.

He twirled his sword in his hand in defiance, giving off the message of: _Does it _look _like I give a f***? _

Steve sighed in annoyance. "Have it your way; AVENGERS, ASSEMBLE!" he shouted. Thor let loose a war cry, tossing hammer at his target. As expected, he dodged easily ran towards him, his sword ready to slice him to ribbons. However, instead of attacking Thor, he merely jumped over him and pommeled him right in the middle of his back. Stepping to the side to temporarily let his teammates through to their opponent, he watched as Tony was judo flipped into Steve, and Nat nimbly dodged away from an attack, trying to find an opening. As this happened, Clint fired arrows everytime that there wasn't a person in the way; none of them were successful in their purpose. Thor summoned his hammer, a plan working in his mind; if he could get him in a difficult place . . .

_If one of my comrades were to hold him in place . . . no, he could just pull them in front of him. Maybe if he dodged at just the right time, it would leave him open for a few seconds . . ._

He watched the battle carefully, waiting for the right moment to issue his attack. Tony crawled off of Steve, who helped him up and stared at the battle intently. Clint fired another arrow, which was swatted aside. Finally, Natasha lashed out with one of her knives, aiming for the person's neck, only to be stopped with a swift disarming technique. She made a jab at their face, and they bobbed and weaved **(basically ducked in another direction while standing in the same place) **quickly, slapping her on the upper arm with the flat of their blade.

_Wait for it . . . _

Nat, obviously finding this to be an annoyance, drew another dagger, looking just about ready to murder him viciously. She slashed violently, taking a step forward in order to give him less room to dodge. Thor, anticipating his next move, tossed his hammer with a limited amount of force; enough to leave quite the injury, but not enough to kill him. As if a blessing, the hammer slammed into the person quickly, sending them into a stack of wooden crates. They cracked and splintered on impact, the person temporarily going limp in the pile of destruction.

_Did I . . . ?_

He removed the hammer from his chest, dropping it in an agitated manner beside them. He stood up, cradling a gash on his lower arm; in fact, it was the same arm that was still being used as the home of an arrow. Blood seeped through his light blue tunic in the area around his ribs, causing Thor to suspect that he had cracked or broken a few. Despite his considerably fatal injuries, he stood up straight, sword in hand, and raised it in a defensive stance.

"Please don't make me do this," Steve begged in a stern tone.

Again, he heard a sigh, but this one was different; it seemed to be filled with disappointment and remorse, more than anything. He raised his weapon, as if waiting to meet another attack. _I'm still standing; as long as that lasts, I _will _fight back_ his form seemed to say. Thor couldn't help but admire is determination; however, that did not mean that he didn't find it to be foolish. This person was bleeding in great amounts, obviously in a lot of pain, and smart when it came to combat. Seeing as this, he could tell that this combination would make him stubborn and desperate to escape from the fight.

_He was trying to run away, and we cornered him here. _We _are the ones forcing this fight. We should have _never_ tried to-_

"Surrender."

Thor tilted his head to one side, listening to what Fury was instructing him to do **(you thought that was Link talking, didn't you?)**. "Surrender?" he heard Tony mutter incredulously under his breath.

"Yes; we now know what this person looks like-more or less-and what their fighting style is. They obviously know where to find our enemies, too," he reasoned in a slightly interested voice.

"But, with all due respect, why can't we just take 'em to base?" Steve asked.

Thor was vaguely aware of the sound of shattering glass. "Well, number one, Rogers: If we want to establish an alliance with a person who has the same enemies as us, do you think that it would be a good idea to 'kidnap' them?"

"No, sir."

"Exactly, and number two: He's already running away."

His head snapped in the direction of the place where their "enemy" had been standing a few seconds ago, finding it empty. One of the windows above was shattered and damaged, some of the surface scratched, even. "What if he brings public attention?" Thor blurted out.

"If we didn't know about him until now," he explained, "then I'm sure that he will be able to stay out of the public eye."

_Link's POV_

"Ow."

Zelda continued to stitch up the deep cut on his arm, not looking up to inspect his pained expression. "If you would stop getting yourself into fights, things like this wouldn't happen," she deadpanned, finishing another stitch.

"To be fair, I didn't _start _the fight, Your Highness. In fact, I tried to get away."

Her brow furrowed, showing that she was trying not to throw some choice words at him. "Alright, alright. But, what does Farore have to say about it?" she asked, glancing up at him with a smug look in her green eyes.

He bit his lip, not wanting to share that information. "Her Grace Farore mentioned that they were part of a group called the Avengers-earth's version of the Champions. Farore-_Her Grace _Farore told me that they were very well known and loved among humans."

"Continue."

"Her Grace also mentioned that they were searching for information on the Yiga Clan," he stole a glance at his injury, choosing his words carefully, "and me."

Princess Zelda blink in surprise, looking up at him to make sure that he wasn't bluffing. "How . . . how do they know about _you_?"

Link drummed his fingers on the chair uncomfortably. "I'm . . . still trying to figure that out. One of them-a tall, well built human in armor-tried to ask me if I was 'the one they were looking for'. So, I'm guessing that they heard something from the Yiga, or something along those lines. Other than that, I'm sure that they aren't fully aware of who I or the Yiga _truly _are."

She considered this gazing absently at a random portrait on the wall of her study; a portrait of the king. Her green eyes traced the details of the shading before returning back to Link's arm. "Why do they have any interest in you? After all, they had not a clue of your importance until earlier."

He looked in another direction as she finished another stitch. "I feel that they understand my resentment towards the Yiga."

"How so?"

"Her Grace Farore informed me that they have lost ten civilians to the Yiga. Although they are not fully aware of what they are trying to go up against, they are probably trying to jump into the frey out of blind devotion to their people. I was able to observe that they were rational in most of their actions, even going as far as to ask why I disposed of the cursed assassins."

"And did you answer them?" Zelda asked, picking up the scissors on her desk to cut the dissolvable-thread.

Link stared at her blankly. ". . . No."

She calmly cut the thread, place the bloody needle on the medical tray, and picked up the roll of gauze. After a few seconds of the only sound being of the bandages stretching out and snaking around his partially-healed arm, she stood up and stood at his left side. He looked up at her in confusion, his cerulean blue eyes staring at her blank Persian green ones **(yes; Persian green is a color)** in an innocent and puzzled way. Instead of the wise words he expected, she elbowed him harshly. "Are you _insane_?"

"That's debatable-"

Zelda glared at him in an amused way. "Link . . ."

"Her Grace Farore told me not to interfere, and you're already acquainted with the fact that I don't favor socializing with my opponents, Your Highness."

She flashed a concerned look in his direction. "I understand that, but, Link? Would you _please _try to avoid getting yourself injured next time? As brave as you are, that does _not_ make your immortal **(BotW quotes, benches)**."

"Yes, Princess Zelda."

"And _try _to make peace with these 'Champions of Earth'?"

"Yes, Princess Zelda."

"And please stop calling me 'Your Highness' and 'Princess'? Such a subject is not something of great importance, but it makes me feel above people in a vain and unsophisticated way," she asked, folding her hand neatly in front of her.

"Yes, Princess Zelda."

Zelda rolled her eyes playfully, picking up a book on her desk. She flipped through it, squinting at a few of the sloppy handwriting that she created when she was rushing to get work done. She turned a few more pages, then stopped on one, walking over to Link-who was now standing on the other side of the small room-with the leather-bound book.

"What do you think about these interviews?" the princess asked, showing him the pages.

Much like her reaction to the chicken-scratch Hylian letters, he squinted at the page, tipping his head to one side in confusion. In the end though, he was able to get the message well enough.

"More malice?" he guessed.

She nodded solemnly, her long golden hair twitching from the movement. "It would seem such. To add to that . . ." she flipped the page to show a list of monsters, "A few of Ganon's fiends are coming back. Do you recall when the last blood moon was?"

Link thought back to the last one; he usually remembered certain occurrences by events or what he was thinking during that time. What had happened during the most recent blood moon? He vaguely remembered being in Kakariko Village . . . "Three weeks ago, Princess," he said, his mind returning to reality.

Princess Zelda nodded, scribbling down a few notes in more formal letters. "People have reported a worrisome amount of monsters and malice **(that sounds like a good book title)** inhabiting specific parts of Hyrule. Although they seem to be in small numbers-so far-they could pose as a threat in later cases. No one has been injured or maimed in any way, but we still must be cautious. I'm expecting that the Yiga Clan are trying new methods to ally themselves with reinforcements; you know what that means, correct?"

"They're gaining numbers for preparation for war or battle."

"Yes, that seems to be the case. What action do we suggest that we take?"

Link was slightly flabbergasted **('been waiting for a while to use that word)** by the request to voice his own opinion, but obliged, nonetheless. "I feel that we are already doing all that we can by trying to foil their plans. However-if it would serve as some sort of aid-we could position a few soldiers near the borders of each Hyrulean village and stable that is in need of protection, _if_ the threat grows. We could also consult and compromise with each race's leaders to set up borderline protection and stay on high alert for Yiga spies **(I have been taught by HW, thank you)**."

While he said this, she wrote it down in her book. It wasn't that Link was the smartest out of the both of them-quite the opposite, actually-but he was more educated in war strategy and the Yiga than Zelda, making him the most promising candidate to turn to when in need of advice. Snapping the book closed, the princess stared at him for a few seconds, as if waiting for him to burst into flames. "Anything more?"

He smiled smugly, a mischievous thought making his eyes beam with humor. "Tell Riju that our efforts are sure to _seal_ the deal **(you had to see that coming at some point)**."

_Banner's POV_

Bruce poked a piece of equipment with the gel-pen he was using to record his observations. To his dismay, the machine sputtered and sparked, coughing miserably. He sighed with just as much of a lack of satisfaction and more so disappointment. Trying again to get an exceptional reaction, he click one of many buttons on its surface, resulting in similar results to his first attempt at making the machine work. Fury had told him to work with the wretched piece of technology to see if it could be remodeled into the prototype of an important gadget, but his efforts were proving fruitless, so far.

The slam of a door from behind him saved him from having to deal with any further disheartening results. Half-turning to hear Tony grumbling something to himself (which would be bleeped out by any TV show), he assumed that they had returned with information and a solution to the current crisis.

"So, how did the mission . . . go." Banner hesitated, looking Tony and Cap up and down. Tony's suit was scratched and dented in a few spaces (which was honestly really common), and he looked agitated and ready to explode on anyone who dared to speak to him. Steve, on the other hand, had only a few cuts and bruises in places and an absent minded expression, obviously trying to analyze something in his head. "What happened? You look like you got your asses handed to you."

"We did," Thor confirmed, ducking under the short doorframe to come in. Much like his teammates, he looked disoriented and suffering from minor injuries. The only difference was that he had a tampon shoved up his nose (he wasn't even gonna _ask_ about that **[tampons help with nosebleeds, waifus]**) and he looked harshly dispirited.

"What exactly happened, then?" Bruce asked, placing his work to the side in order to listen.

Cap cleared his throat. "You see, we took out the sentries outside of where Fury told us to go. When we explored the inside of the warehouse, though, we found that multiple assassins and Hydra Agents had been ripped to pieces-"

"What he _means_ is that there was a lot of blood and gore," Tony interjected, scowling dejectedly at the floor.

"Yes, _thank you_, Tony. Anyway, we were then attacked by a man dressed in medieval styled clothes. He was really good at fighting, and-as you can see-even landed a hit on us."

"'Medieval styled clothes'?" Banner asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, he was wearing a blue tunic, khakis, boots, and a plack cape with a hood. Not only that, but he attacked with a sword and shield. At one point, Thor was able to knock him into a pile of crates-which was amazing, by the way," the god flashed a confident smile, "and he was injured. Before we could actually do anything else, though, Fury told us to surrender."

Banner was shocked by this; _Nicholas Joseph Fury _not trying to use a person as a human-pincushion for tranquiliser darts?

_Interesting . . ._

"Do you suspect that this person was who the assassins were searching for?"

"Without a doubt," Tony said, rubbing one of his eyes in a tired way. "The style of their clothes and their fighting style confirmed that enough for me."

Banner nodded, considering these traits. "Are Clint and Nat alright?"

"Indeed, they are," Thor reassured him, yanking the tampon out of his nose and then proceeding to throw it in the nearest trash can. "Clint is untouched; he was able to get one shot on the person during the ordeal. And Lady Natasha is of good health, too; they are currently giving a mission report to Fury. As for us . . . well, you already know that."

He almost breathed a sigh of relief; he didn't know why he was so fearful for their safety. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that they had no idea of what they were doing, despite the fact that they were armed with four-or five-strong superheroes who were willing to defend the populace from harm. "Then . . . what are we supposed to do now?"

* * *

**End of 1st Chapter**

**I wanted to make this chapter longer, but it's 1:00 am, and I'm tired, so you get a cliffie (sorry not sorry). To be fair, I now have to live with juggling THREE crossovers at once (yay . . .). I'm emotionally drained from the prison we call "school," so sorry if I appeared to be half-asleep while I wrote certain parts of this (**_**gomen-nasai**_** *bows*). To those of you who may be wondering (which I'm sure none of you are), I know a limited amount of martial arts because of me taking Taekwondo when I was six 'til I was nine (recommend it). Anyway, good night. **_**Sayonara**_**.**


	2. Chapter 2: Under the Sun

**WHERE HEROES UNITE IS ON HIATUS UNTIL I FINISH MY OTHER CROSSOVERS. I'm sorry for the disappointment, but school has me so drained to the point where I feel guilty just by **_**existing**_**, so I'm going to have to push it to the side. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for understanding (if you did, that is).**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Under the Sun**

_Tony's POV_

The playboy grumbled obscurities under his breath; this was a stupid idea! What was Fury _thinking_? The man could watch them prance into a minefield and brush it off as a minor setback, if anything.

"You know," Nat said from the couch, "if you were more positive about things, it would be easier to consider this as fortunate."

Clint looked at her with a disgruntled expression. "No offense, Nat, but we just saved the world a few months ago, and now we have to deal with assassins. _Not _something that I would consider 'fortunate,' in all honesty."

She shrugged. "Well, at least we know who we're looking for. We also got _a lot _of important factors that could lead to the discovery of these assassins from their remains, so we have it a little better than it could be."

Tony poured himself a glass of whiskey and took a sip, the burning sensation temporarily washing away his worries-that is, until he got a hangover from drinking four so far. "Mmm . . . I don't like the sound of this in general, though. Don't you find it weird that this 'person' handed our asses to us? They probably have little to no experience, too."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Tony, stop trying to forget the fact that they kicked your ass by something _other _than pure luck. That person obviously had a lot of experience to be able to fight us like that."

Nat nodded in agreement. "Yes, the way he held his weapon, and how he kept his stance and didn't talk? That _definitely _shows that they had been well trained before our confrontation."

"And, they appeared to be very young," Thor interjected, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth as he watched the news on one of the TVs.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"Didn't you notice how short they were compared to us? That, and they seemed to be a bit stubborn, similar to a common teenager-"

"Okay, okay, but I have something I need to ask!" Tony interrupted, putting the shot glass on the table so that he could raise his hands up. "We _need _to come up with a name for this person; calling them 'they,' and 'him,' is starting to _really_ get on my nerves."

"How about Agadhi?" Thor asked, his question returned with judgemental stares. "What? It means _mysterious _or _secretive_."

"Eh, just doesn't really have a ring to it," Nat said. "How about Raziel? Raziel is the Angel of Secrets; we don't know who the person is, afterall."

"Are you sure? What if they-er, _the person_ isn't on our side?" Steve asked.

"We'll find that out when we find out their _real _name," she deadpanned, raising a well-sculpted eyebrow.

"Raziel it is!"

_Link's POV_

_ "Raziel?"_

_ Farore smiled in an amused way at him, her green eyes glittering with humor. "Yes; that is what they have decided to call you-for now, that is."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "On earth, there are many different religions and races, similar to our world. One of these religions is known as _Christianity_, and there are _angels_ in Christianity. One of these angels is known as Raziel, and Raziel is the Angel of Secrecy."_

_ "So, they named me after Raziel because they have no idea of who I am?"_

_ She nodded, her long braided hair swaying behind her. "Speaking of _them_, I have a quest for you that includes them."_

_ Link cocked his head to one side, his cerulean blue eyes shining confusedly. "'Quest'?"_

_ Farore's green aura flickered with electricity, but not out of aggressiveness. "Indeed, Link. I'm sure that you are already aware of the fact that they are also after the Yiga?"_

_ He nodded._

_ "These people . . . they are heroes of earth, as I have already told you. They are searching for you _and _the Yiga, and they are still trying to figure out what they want to do with you once they _do _manage to speak with you. Speaking of which," she explained, placing her hand on a tree, "I find that it would be helpful to ally with them."_

_ "Your Grace . . . ?" he asked in disbelief, not understanding fully._

_ She looked back at him, her green eyes solemn and serious. "I have spoken with the other goddesses, and ever Nayru agreed that this is the best course of action. In all honesty, I'm just as confused as you, but I do not find it to be a good idea to argue with the Goddess of Wisdom."_

_ Link chuckled. "It wouldn't, would it?"_

_ The Goddess of Courage shook her head, jewelry twinkling as she did so. "No. However, I'm leaving it up to you to actually agree to these terms. These people have injured you, but they care for their people and wish for nothing but peace and prosperity, just like any good ruler. Please consider this in your decision."_

_ "Although they have done this to me, I have not nursed a grudge against them, Your Grace. I know that joining them will benefit both of us; I agree to these terms," he said confidently, looking up at her._

_ Farore's smile beamed, her aura doing the same. "Thank you, Link. But, heed my warning; the path ahead of you is painful and treacherous. It would do you well to proceed with caution."_

_ The dream began to flicker, much like her aura. In fact, it was becoming more wavy by the second._

_ She looked up, her smile waverin for a second. When she looked back at him, her smile was more sympathetic than good humored. "Goodbye . . . Hero of Hyrule."_

* * *

Link sat up quickly, looking around him. As he expected, his house in Hateno Village looked just as quaint and welcoming as usual. He sighed; ever since Hyrule Castle had been repaired, he had turned down Zelda's offer to live in the castle, and preferred his home in the village. Of course, this made getting to Hyrule Castle when he was called up complicated, but neither of them minded. When he needed to go to the Great Plateau, he would take Epona to the closest face of it and then climb up; he had asked Zelda about creating a path of some kind, but she told him that travelers finding the Shrine of Resurrection would not be a good. He agreed, of course, and the only on-foot entrance was a secret that only they knew. They couldn't tell Purah, as she would probably use her big mouth to tell someone else. And Impa . . . well, she couldn't exactly _leave _the village, due to her age and the Yiga.

Link dragged himself out of bed, looking at his blue tunic. It would take around a day's time to get to the Great Plateau, and he knew that Farore's message meant to get their as fast as possible. It's not like he went there _every_ day; he was only informed to go there every two days, just about. Not that long, really, but still some time for him to take a break and heal.

After pulling his tunic over his head and putting his many belts and straps on, along with his weapons, he dug a bit under his stairs for a bit more supplies. He picked up Epona's saddle and other riding tack, his seemingly small muscles easily cooperating with the heavy equipment. He lugged it outside, walking over to the horse resting in her stable. The chocolate-colored horse in question stamped her hooves eagerly, neighing her greetings.

"Good morning to you, too, Epona," he returned, petting her on the muzzle. She cocked her head to one side, inspecting what he was holding. Epona stomped her feet again, nickering in discomfort. "Yes, I'm going to give you an apple before we go." As he walked off, he heard her neigh in a satisfactory way.

Entering the small house again, he looked through a cabinet and grabbed an apple, taking one for himself and another for Epona. Link returned to her outside, holding the apple up for her to see, holding the other one behind his back. "Now, what do we say?"

Epona stomped and tossed her well trimmed mane, a rumble emitting from her throat as she stared him down.

"What do we _say_," he asked again, knowing that she would be this impatient.

She huffed, but neighed an apology, along with a polite way to ask for the apple.

"Good job!" Link praised, tossing her the apple. She immediately caught it in her mouth, chewing it up so quickly that he was almost sure that he'd never even given her anything. He placed the other apple on the stable roof, out of her line of vision, and got to putting her horse-tack on. After a bit of adjusting the straps, he looked up at her and patted her on the head. "If only earth had roads for horses."

She gave him a questioning look.

Link smiled at her, shaking it out of his mind. "Nevermind. Now, off to-"

"_Zora's Domain."_

His ears twitched, looking up and around him for the source of the voice. Of course, he didn't find anything.

"_Go to Zora's Domain, Link," the voice gently chimed. "You will find what you need there."_

He looked up, Epona obviously hearing it, too. "Why Zora's Domain, Your Grace?" **(I didn't think that it was possible to type a sentence of capitalization!)**

_". . . Danger . . . f . . . nd . . ."_

"Your Grace?"

There was nothing but silence.

"-Zora's Domain," he finished, looking back to Epona. "We are departing for Zora's Domain."

_Natasha's POV_

The assassin glared at Tony. "I doubt that Raziel will take some sort of _bait_," she said.

"What do you mean? All we're going to do is attack the assassins, and see if it'll draw him out; knocks two birds out with one stone, right?" he retaliated, repositioning the ice pack on his forehead.

"Not really," Clint interjected. "You're just _assuming_ that he'll come to the brawl. We have no way to be sure that Raziel is going to show up _every time_ this happens."

"Okay, number one-" Tony began, "-he has showed up for at least two attacks. And number two, I'm sure that he'll come to a place where they meet up."

"But, what are we going to _do_?"

Nat looked at Steve. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Fury told us to not take him for an interrogation if we need to establish some kind of trust, so raising attention through an attack to draw him in would seem to be breaking that rule," he said, staring outside through one of the large windows.

"And you, Thor; do you have any ideas?" Natasha asked, looking at the unusually quiet god.

"Hmm? Ah, yes; I have a few of my own plans. These assassins . . . they seem to be _ignorant _of something . . . I'm yet to wrap my mind around it, though."

"What do you mean."

He stood up, pouring himself some coffee. "It's just . . . _they _don't know what their looking for; that's what I feel, anyway."

"So, you mean that you think that they're looking for something that they know little about?" Clint asked. "That would make sense; they were meeting with Hydra in one of the most deserted parts of the city. If they were looking for something that someone might have, why would they look for this 'relic' in a place where they can't scout for civilians?"

"Yeah, that's one of the parts that doesn't add up," Steve agreed, resting his chin in his hand. "Raziel may or may not know about this too. What have we gotten on him, Banner?"

Banner, who was sitting with a S.H.I.E.L.D. tablet in his hands, looked up from whatever he was reading. "Oh, yes! Unfortunately, the blood samples that you got weren't of much use, due to them being mixed with the blood of the victims. However, one of our more _dedicated _agents was able to get a sample from one of the boxes that you told me he ran into, so we were able to take the samples with the results . . . of _nothing_."

"Nothing?!" everyone echoed.

He nodded. "Yes; you see, the person-er, _Raziel_-is not anyone on record. In fact," he began, facing the screen towards them, "these samples show that this person doesn't have a _trace of human blood_ in their system."

Natasha's green eyes ran from left to right over the screen, inspecting the data; he was right. "How has he been out of our line of vision for so long, then?"

"Well, we've searched the information on every-accessible set of archives-from this country and others-but none have any recorded test subjects, trainees, citizens, etc concerning this person. Hell, even their folklore turned up empty . . . Thor, are you alright?"

She looked at the god, who was staring thoughtfully at the ground.

"Oh, I was just considering . . ." he cleared his throat, "I was just consider something that has me a bit-ah, _unnerved_, one could say. Is there a possibility that this person could be from one of the other Nine Worlds? I just thought that it was a coincidence, that's all . . ."

"No, by all means; _amuse _us," Clint welcomed, raising his hands in the air.

"Raziel had clothing that looked like garb that someone would clothe themselves in if they are from Asgard, or anywhere near there. And Raziel's weapon . . . that was quite a well crafted broadsword, if I do say so myself. I think that Tyr would _kill _for one like that, if he could attach it to his arm. He must be taken good care of, if he can afford clothes and weapons like that, along with such fine skills in combat."

"Mm-hm, mm-hm-are we forgetting the point of this conversation?" Tony interrupted, dropping the ice pack on the floor. "Fury has given us _two hours _to get our shit together, and we're talking about people prancing around with sharp things and bags on their heads! Make! A! _Decision_!"

Everyone was quiet until Banner gasped. "Oh my God!"

"What's wrong?" Nat asked, peering over his shoulder at the screen.

"We have an update on them. Hydra's database shows that they are planning to try and meet up with them again at 11:30 pm today."

"Where?"

"Long Island Sound. We have about nine hours to plan an intervention. Cap? What do you say we do?" **(I always find a way.)**

He cleared his throat. "I say that we inform Fury and prepare for a fight. These people have pushed us to this decision; it's time to push _back_."

_Link's POV_

"Sidon, please try not to electrocute yourself," Link warned.

The Prince of the Zoras in question was inspecting a shock arrow that had a snapped shaft. "I thought that if one part of the arrow is damaged, the rest of it doesn't work?"

"A snake can still bite you if it's dead," Link deflected, raising a good humored eyebrow.

"Good point, my friend," Sidon agreed, holding the arrow in a different way in order to not hurt himself. "So, are there any other monster appearances? Other than the ones at the domain, I mean."

He nodded. "Yes, though no one has been hurt, so far. A lynel reappearing, though . . . that is rather peculiar."

"Indeed; they are very rare and strong monsters, not to mention _intelligent_. This one at Polymous Mountain . . . you disposed of it recently, correct?"

"Yes, but there was a blood moon just last night. A few people around these parts have mentioned seeing an increase in the population of monsters; not an alarming amount, but _definitely _potential threats. _This _lynel, however . . . well, not all monsters come back at the blood moon if they've been killed a great number of times."

"You and Mipha defeated that lynel over a hundred years ago," he added, his voice cracking at the name of his late-sister. "It should've had its essence completely destroyed long ago."

"Yes, but you and I both know that Ganon still has some power over his subjects."

"Even more so with the Yiga making an effort to resurrect him, yes."

Silence.

"Are there any monsters that need to be dealt with in this area, Sidon?" Link asked, looking up from one of the arrows he was trying to repair.

"Hmm . . . yes, there is this _one _monster camp that keeps getting under our scales. You see, my hylian friend, these certain lizalfos have decided to 'set up shop' right in the middle of the camp to Zora's Domain. I'm sure that there are more of them, but we Zora tend to use the waterways to get to the domain, so they aren't much of a problem for us. However, any tourists who try to make their way here have trouble getting past them unfazed. No one has gotten severely injured or maimed-save a person who broke their arm-but it is still something that my father and I are concerned about. We would send our soldiers, but we are still trying to get back on our feet after so many people leaving to go see the whole of Hyrule.

"Not only that, but-as you know-we Zora are vulnerable to weapons that involve electricity, and the enemies in this area use that to their advantage. If you would be so kind as to assist us and deal with them, I would be happy to accompany you. If I'm correct, there are at least four or five groups of monsters along the path."

"Of course; it would be my pleasure," Link confirmed, smiling kindly.

Sidon took his right hand in his, shaking it violently. "THANK YOU!" he said, flashing him a toothy smile and thumbs up **(YES)**.

* * *

Sidon jabbed the end of his weapon into the rib cage of a lizalfo, ending its life quickly. "Is that the last of them?"

Link looked around, craning his neck to inspect the remnants of the short battle. "Yes, I would think so."

"Good! There is one more left; best for last, as Bazz says."

He nodded, whipping his sword on the rag he usually carried around and then sheathed it. "How much farther?"

The prince looked up at the slowly darkening sky. "About ten minutes, my friend. Are you _sure _that we should try to fight monsters this late in the day? I've seen how bloodthirsty monsters can get around this time."

Link's eyes looked at the ashes that remained from the lizalfos' old fire; he could tell from the steam beginning to rise off of the grey and black flakes that the area was starting to cool off.

_Lizalfos are reptile-like monsters that can't maintain their own body heat, much like lizards_, he thought. _This would mean that they would be weak at night in the Lanayru region, especially around water._

"No, Lizalfos aren't very strong when it comes to later hours. They usually hunt during the earlier hours of the day, meaning that they are close to famished by the twilight's arrival** (literally the prettiest sentence I have ever typed)**. Attacking them at this time would be the best course of action."

Sidon nodded. "I understand. But just know, _you _are going to be the one explaining all of this to my father if I get emotionally traumatized."

Link chuckled. "Sure, tell yourself that. So, what are you-"

Water splashed loudly as the Zora prince dived into the river beside them, his red and white head bobbing on the surface **(I almost typed 'boobing' XD)**. "The camp can be accessed by taking the path in that direction," he said, pointing down river. "On the way, you may encounter a few foes, but none of major concern. I'll meet you there; we both know that my natural coloration won't do me any favors in the dark." And with that, he slipped beneath the raging water and gracefully swam to their intended destination.

The hylian-now left alone, looked up at the sky, squinting his eyes from the harshness of the dying sun. "Hmm . . ." he hummed, gazing at the vibrant golden colors of the sky. His hand found his hair, running its fingers through his amber colored locks. Link turned, realizing that he had no time to waste.

_Yes, Sidon will _definitely _get there faster than me._

He pulled his hood over his head, the gentle pitter-patter of rain resounding on the dark fabric as he walked over the grass. "I think that I've been to this specific camp before," he thought aloud. "However, I wasn't exactly as experienced before, so I merely cut through some woods and climbed the rest of the way **(I was a coward, okay?)**. If I remember correctly, these lizalfos used shock arrows to shoot down any intruders, shooting at any puddles near them to create a deadly electrical currents. This will make them rather threatening."

Link quickly nocked an arrow and fired, bringing an end to one of the yellow keese hanging from the roof of a stone cave in front of him. The others pried their eyes open for a few seconds, then brushed it off and sank back into their slumber. He gave them no time to sleep, as he shot them down quickly and walked past quietly, his boots leaving no sound on the ground as he took step after step. He looked behind him. "Why do I feel like I'm being followed?" he thought to himself.

"Show yourself."

Nothing.

Link had quite the sharp instincts, and he could _always _tell if something was off in the environment. Seeing as that no one was walking out from the beautiful wilderness of the Lanayru lands, he squinted his eyes, searching for any movement in the underbrush surrounding him. The blue and purple bushes around him swayed in the breeze, wilting a bit from the weight of rain drops on their leaves; however, they did not move in a way that showed any intervention.

Link drummed his fingers on his bow out of annoyance; he knew someone was following him, _that _he was sure about. Whoever was stalking him, though, was hiding from him. He rolled his cerulean blue eyes, concealed beneath his hood; they couldn't have picked a better time, eh?

_Alright, I'll play your "game," of sorts. Just don't attack me and we'll get along well. Got it?_

He turned the corner, past the small part that exposed him to the river and kept on moving. Once he arrived at his intended location, he turned back around, climbed over part of the raised up land that restrained the path, and wove his way through a few trees before finding a good spot to pick off the lizalfos with arrows.

"Sidon?" Link whispered, making sure that none of the monsters could hear him.

He felt something lie down on the grass next to him, and he could tell by the glowing blue and silver that the Zora Prince had found him. "Yes, I'm here **(no homo)**. Took you long enough, my friend."

Link glared at him through the newfound darkness. "I know, I know. But, _boku o mitei_; does this look like the face of someone that runs late?"

"I can't see your face. It's dark."

"Your jewelry isn't complying with that statement."

"I can't help it; it's just customary for us Zora to wear garb like this!" he whisper/shouted in amusement.

"That doesn't mean that you couldn't use something dark in your wardrobe."

"Are you saying that we have a problem with our clothing choices?"

"Eh . . . am I _really _though?"

"Yes."

"_Gomen'nasai_. Anyway, back to the task at hand," he interrupted, turning towards the lizalfos "innocently" sitting at their posts. "How do you want to attack?"

"Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

"_Nani_? What do you mean? I'm only asking if you want to attack from down there while I pick them off, or something else?"

"How about this: you target the ones on higher ground, while I wait for you to finish doing that? Then, when only the ones on the ground are left-which, I can see quite a few of them-I run out and dispose of them quickly. I feel that it sounds like a good idea, mind you."

"_Hai,_ I agree; that seems to be a good idea. Quick question, though: Where are you going to wait?"

Sidon's amber eyes-which seemed to glow in the dark-scanned the terrain; they brightened with satisfaction at one point. "You see that small outpost, right there? It's carved out of some sort of stone?" he asked, pointing at what he was talking about.

He squinted his eyes. "Hmmm . . . That one?" he asked, pointing at an area where some smoke was beginning to rise.

"Indeed; 'tis that one. I could go over their, kill the guard, and wait for you to take out the other guards positioned. From that point, I'll run down and deal with the ones on the ground. Sound good?"

Link nodded. "Yes, that would be a good idea."

"Alright, then; you stay here. Once I take out the guard, I'll put out the fire, and _that _is when you'll attack."

"_Hai_."

Sidon nodded in return, standing up quietly and trudging quietly through the slick grass to get to the place where he would wait. As this happened, Link nocked an arrow and stared at the lizalfos sitting on various rocks; he was trying to figure out which one to shoot first, and with what kind of arrow. He didn't dare use a shock arrow, as he was afraid of accidentally shooting Sidon, but he settled on using ice arrows; they were the least threatening. He pulled back the bowstring to his cheek, looking out of the corner of his eye to see a fire dying down.

Sidon was sending the signal.

Link wasted no time in impaling his first target with an arrow, its skin freezing before bursting into small shards of ice and purple smoke. Nocking another arrow, he shot the lizalfo that had been sitting across from it, giving him a similar result. He looked in Sidon's direction and took out one of the faintly glowing ice arrows, flicking it in the air to tell him that he could get to the first group on the ground.

The Prince of the Zora quickly complied, drawing his silver rapier and making his way down to the enemy. Link sprinted quickly after him, still on the elevated part of the ground, but ready to shoot down any more lizalfos. Sidon slashed and stabbed violently, the monsters not having a chance of beating him. When he noticed that one of the ones with a bow was aiming at Sidon, it magically sprouted an arrow in its chest.

The small hylian climbed down to the path where Sidon was, nodding at him. "There are more of them up ahead. If I saw them correctly, it seems that they're gathered around something."

"Could it be a fire?" Sidon asked, wiping his brow of any sweat that had developed upon it.

"No, I don't see any light, other than the small luminous stone checkpoints. Perhaps some sort of prey?"

He shook his head. "That wouldn't be possible . . . lizalfos don't hunt at night. They don't because they fear getting lost."

Link's eyes widened at his explanation. "Then, could it be . . . a person?"

Sidon's expression mirrored his. "Oh my gods . . . We must help them!" he exclaimed, running towards them.

He followed in suit, putting up his bow quickly and drawing the Master Sword. The tall Zora in front of him jumped into the fray, cutting off the surprised squeals of the overgrown lizards with well placed blows. Link followed his example, gracefully slashing at the enemy and trying to get to what they were crowding around.

"Sidon, could you cover my back while I try to get through?" he asked, kicking one of the lizalfos in its scaly stomach.

"Y-Yeah, I think I can do that, my friend," he assured him, pushing a few of the green fiends away from him.

"Okay, then. On the count of three: one, two . . ." he began to count, readying himself to bolt through them. "THREE!"

Link tore through their numbers, swinging the Master Sword when any of them tried to get in his way. He could hear Sidon behind him, hacking expertly at them to keep him from any of their attacks. When he was just about to reach the person in trouble, a particularly large lizalfo jumped in front of him, croaking threateningly.

"Move," Link said coldly. The creature opened its mouth, preparing to attack him. "I warned you."

The hero jabbed the Master Sword in between two of its ribs, causing the foul being to explode in a flurry of black and purple smoke.

He charged through the smoke and turned back to look at Sidon, who had a small cut on his arm from all of the fighting. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he replied, kicking one of the other lizalfos like it owed him rupees **(b**** slap!)**. "I'll definitely have to nurse this cut later, though."

Link turned back, noticing that they had been crowded around what seemed to be a thin trail that was surrounded by raised up ground, much like a few of the paths to Zora's Domain. "Come on, Sidon," he said, walking through without looking back.

Another squeal of a monster and the steps of finned feet on the ground assured him that he was following him. To prove that, the prince took his place walking right next to him. "Do you think that the person being attacked ran here?"

"Yes, that would make sense."

He hummed. "Do you think that they are injured . . . oh, gods!"

Link looked ahead of them and saw what had frightened him. Along the rest of the trail, something red and slightly washed off by the rain soaked into the pale soil. Knowing what would come next, he braced himself for the metallic scent that hit him in the face a few seconds later. He craned his neck to see further ahead, but the rain blurred the area around him too much for him to be able to see anything.

"Stay here," he told Sidon.

"But, what if they need help?" he protested.

"I don't doubt you, my friend, but I'm well experienced as a healer. I'm not trying to say that you can't be of any use, but you _are _kind of . . . _intimidating_."

He nodded, putting a thoughtful hand on his chin as he considered this. "Yes, I suppose that I _am _a bit frightening to a person who has never seen a Zora before; _especially _an injured person."

Link smiled at his understanding and then pasted on a blank face to keep from possibly scaring the injured person not too far away. Walking down the path, he noticed that a few trees had blood on them, probably from the person putting their hand against the bark before continuing to run away. He turned to the left, looking around to see if the person was around the corner. They weren't, but the hylian was sure that he heard something approaching him from behind.

"Hello?" he asked, turning around, only to dodge a knife that came his way. His head snapped in the direction of which it had came, seeing the dark silhouette of someone standing under a large pine. He spared a glance at the knife lying on the ground; the hilt was bloody. "Come out; I can see you. I don't wish you harm," he coaxed softly.

The person stumbled out of the darkness and into the moonlight; he was _definitely_ the source of the blood. Before Link had the chance to say anything more, their knees buckled, and he rushed to catch them in time. Noticing how the man (it was a man; his shoulders were quite broad and he was lacking the wide hips of a female) went limp, Link gently placed two fingers on the stranger's neck. When he couldn't find a pulse, he tried his best to lift the man's head so that he could feel for his heart beat. As he saw the man's face, he nearly jumped away.

It was _him_.

It was one of those men who had attacked him the other day. Which one was it, again? It wasn't the female or the blonde haired man . . . and it wasn't the archer, and he highly doubted that it was the man who had been in the suit of armor . . . so that meant . . .

"The . . . Shield Thrower . . . ?" he wondered aloud, finally finding a pulse. Looking around him to see if there was anyone else, Link picked the man up with little difficulty to carry him bridal style. The result he got in return was one that he expected: the man screamed in agony, grabbing the collar of Link's tunic so tightly that the hylian was thankful that he didn't have a higher collar, or he would've been strangled. The man's eyes opened, nothing but misery and fear in their slate blue on a pinkish canvas **(his eyes were bloodshot)**. Just as quickly as he had reacted, the man went limp again, but he was still weakly clinging to him.

Repositioning him in his arms, he kept on walking to where he had "left" Sidon. When he did arrive, Sidon began to say something and then noticed what was laying in his now-bloodied arms.

"Oh no . . . How bad are his injuries?"

Link craned his neck to see a bit more of what had already been witnessed by him. "Major, that's for sure. From what I can deduce, these are both the normal blows of common monsters," he paused, "and the Yiga. He must've been fighting for his life when we confronted them."

His eyes showed deep concern and sympathy. "Did you notice . . . ?"

"His ears?" Link finished, a bit of amusement lacing his voice. "Yes, I am aware that he is a human. But, that doesn't change anything; we need to get him to the Rutela Dam **(Percy Jackson jokes) **infirmary immediately, before he bleeds out."

* * *

Link's cerulean blue eyes stared at the sleeping form of the human sleeping in front of him. His injuries had been grievous, yes, but he and Sidon were able to heal him as best as they could. Right now, the man was resting in the comfortable bed in front of the body of water that Vah Ruta had once inhabited. He found the name of the dam securing the water ironic; the name of a Zora queen who had given her life for her people this dam was named after. She was still cradling her people and Hyrule, even thousands of years after her tragic death. It was so funny that a man from another land was being nursed back to health in the place that kept Hyrule from flooding.

Shaking those thoughts from his mind, he returned to listening to the man's breathing and watching him to make sure that he didn't show any signs of death. The man had lost a lot of blood, resulting in him needing a great amount of rest and shallow and ragged breathing. He had a surprising lack of wounds on his legs, but his ankle did look a bit beat up; not a break or a sprain, though.

Link stood up and walked over to one of the trays sitting on the wrap-around table made of luminous stone and glass, reading the labels on the surface of each of them.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" a voice asked from behind him.

He turned around to see Sidon walking over with a satchel in both of his arms. "Only a little, yes," he confirmed, watching him place the bag on one of the cleared parts of the table. "What's the bag for, if I may ask?"

The Zora prince chuckled, muttering something under his breath. "This is for the man-if he wakes up, that is. It has an extra pair of clothes, food, and supplies in it," he said, resting his chin on his fist. ". . . He is not from here, is he?"

Link stiffened. "Well, he is human. I do not think that he would be from Hyrule; humans left our land _long _ago."

"Hmm. . ." he hummed. "I guess so . . . how long do you think he'll be like this?"

"Probably another day, or two," he guessed, shrugging. "A handful of hours, at the least."

"What do you plan on doing when he awakens?"

"I'll find a way to bring him home. That is really all that I can do, in this situation."

Sidon nodded. "I understand. Would you like any assistance with such?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sidon, but you are needed at Zora's Domain. Your training to be one of the Champions cannot be paused by something like this."

". . . Alright. But if you need any help," he gestured towards the domain, softly glowing in the distance, "you know where to find me, okay?"

"Okay."

The prince yawned, covering his fang-filled mouth with a clawed red and white hand. "Well, I think I'm going to get to bed. See you tomorrow morning, Link," he said, bidding him farewell and jogging back to the domain.

Link sighed and slumped back into his chair, placing his head in the palm of one of his hands; this was going to be a sleepless night, that was for sure.

_Clint's POV_

Barton tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of the van, waiting for Tony to give the signal. They were waiting for Hydra to appear to meet the assassins, and they were bound to show up any minute now. He remembered all of them cramming into the large van, Steve trying to get Thor to calm down so that it didn't rock side to side and give away their position. Tony was currently outside, waiting for them to arrive so that he could show them a sign that they could attack.

"How much longer?" Thor asked, bouncing his knee.

"It's 11:35; they should be here in a little while," Natasha assured him, peering through the windshield.

"What if they don't show?"

"They'll come," Steve said, twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

"How do you know that?"

Clint sighed. "We hacked into Hydra's system; their files showed that they arranged a meeting for tonight, right here."

The god proceeded to mutter things in Norwegian under his breath, some of these statements insulting certain parts of a snake's anatomy; he decided to leave that alone.

"Do you think that Raziel will come, too?" Natasha asked, her hair red twitching as she looked at him.

Steve shrugged in the back of the van. "To be honest, I don't know. He probably won't, considering the injuries we gave him a few days ago **(HAHAHA)**."

She nodded satisfied by this explanation. "Maybe, maybe."

Thor perked up suddenly, standing up as best he could in the van. "Do you all hear that?"

Everyone was silent for a few seconds, listening for anything outside the van. "No . . . ?" Clint said, answering for Nat and Steve.

A flash out of the corner of his eye forced him to look in Tony's direction, noticing that he was sending the signal in a way that seemed desperate. "Gu-"

Something slammed into the van, putting a good sized dent in the side. "It's an ambush!" Steve shouted, all of the pouring out of the van to avoid another strike to the vehicle.

Clint whirled around to the direction of the attackers, an upside down red eye sitting right in front of his face. Drawing an arrow quickly, he lunged for the assassin in front of him-eager to stab them-but missed greatly when they jumped a few yards away from him, drawing a weapon of their own.

Something metallic landed beside him. ". . . Got j-jumped," Tony breathed, leaning against him. The archer turned to see that parts of his armor were dented and damaged, some patches spurting blood. One of these places happened to be his head.

"Hold on," Clint told him, picking him up under his arms and dragging him away from the others-who had already engaged in their own fights-and sat him down at the foot of a tree.

"Th-thanks," Tony said, curling up. "You know . . . I think I-I'll just-"

He went limp.

Seeing this, he nocked an arrow and shot one of the assassins beginning to approach him. "STEVE!" he shouted. The soldier turned in his direction, but not before jabbing one of them in the face. "Tony's down-" Clint shot down another enemy "-so you'll need to call Fury! Tell him to send reinforcements!"

Cap nodded, tossing his shield at an assassin, and hid behind a tree to tell Fury about their current predicament.

Clint nocked another arrow, shooting an opponent that was starting to come up behind Nat. Thor was swinging and tossing his hammer at anyone unfortunate enough to challenge him, smashing them into a bloody pulp. Tony . . . well, he was unconscious and vulnerable at the moment.

When the assassin realized that he was out of arrows, he held his bow in an awkward way, hitting the other assassins over the head with it. A person who knew little about archery wouldn't probably think that being hit over the head with a bow was painful, but that was wrong. Bows were made to take the strain of shooting an arrow, meaning that they were not the type of weapon that could break easily. So, being attacked by just a bow was a very painful experience.

The assassins soon noticed that attacking him would bear little to no fruit, so they instead chose to attack the other three Avengers at the scene. A pained cry interrupted Clint when he slammed the bow into the side of one of their enemies. His head snapped to attention, looking for the source of such. Thor was still slaughtering them, and Natasha was currently slicing some of them to ribbons with her knives. So, that only left . . .

"Cap?!" he shouted, hoping that he was wrong.

He was right.

Rogers was curled up at the foot of a tree, trying his best to hide under his shield and away from their assailants as blood seeped through his suit and into the ground. Dozens of cuts marred his arms and torso. The assassins gathered around him, pink and black embers emitting off of their bodies as they began to glow with a bright red aura; Clint screamed, a shrill ring filling his ears. He curled up into a ball, covering his ears and crying out in misery, trying to block out the awful noise as his eyes closed tighter and tighter.

And then, there was silence. He didn't know how to describe it; the closest thing he could come up with was that it was similar to the satisfaction of hearing your alarm clock turning off. Clint looked up, seeing that Nat and Thor were in stances that almost perfectly mirrored his own. The assassins seemed to have disappeared in midair. But the part that made the blood drain from his face was this:

Steve was _gone_.

_Unknown POV_

_ The warrior chuckled under his breath, ducking under a few stray branches as he made his way through the small forest. When he came upon the small clearing that he called his destination, he leaned down in front of a small, black, and blood-stained knife sitting abandoned on the wet ground._

_ Picking it up with two of his gloved fingers, he smiled wickedly, looking up at the moon in the navy blue sky. "Heh. Is this what you desire, _Master_?" he asked the sky, holding up the knife as though it were a prize. His lips parted to reveal his sharp mouth of canines, rumbling in a bitter and malicious laugh that would hurt the ears of any hylian that sensed it._

_ One hylian, a beautiful and elegant one, twitched in her bed-beyond the man's eyes-as she felt her sensitive pointed ears tingle painfully from the wretched noise. Her green eyes fluttered open, tears spilling onto her nightgown as she looked at the same moon from her bedroom._

_ "This has only just begun," she whispered, putting a hand on her chest. "Yes, this _war_ has only just been born."_

**End of 2nd Chapter**

* * *

** I'm sorry for the wait, guys, but I've been struggling with my (demon of a) math teacher, so I've been super tired lately. As I said at the end of the first chapter, I may have been lazy and half awake at some points of me writing this, so please excuse any of my writing errors. Have a nice day (or night), and please don't ask me to date you. **_**Sayonara**_**.**


	3. Chapter 3: Breathe

_**Konichiwa**_**! Nice to see/annoy y'all again! Please, enjoy! **_**Arigato **_**for read reading this; you guys really don't know how much writing means to me! UwU**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Breathe**

_Steve's POV_

His body felt heavy. Steve had experienced feelings like these before; he was an Avenger, after all. But, he could still remember all of it correctly: the heartbroken cries of his teammates, his consciousness slipping away as a warm and sticky substance soaked his clothing **(pervert face)**, and the fear that had overcome him. The only other things he remembered were of him being attacked by some "demons", and then him waking up at one point-in immeasurable pain-and a pair of kind blue eyes looking into his own. And then, the world was dark.

Steve felt like he had rocks on his eyelids, but he cracked his eyes open and looked around him. He was in an open air room, lying on a comfortable bed with a warm blanket on him, but the part of his body that wasn't covered-his head and some of his shoulders-was freezing. The "room" he was in was a bright and a glowing blue that hurt his eyes to look at, and it didn't help that he knew it was the early hours, due to the sunlight surrounding him.

_Am I dead? Was I carried away by an angel, or something?_

He shifted in the bed, noticing that he was bandaged up. Of course, this didn't mean that he wasn't in _pain_, but it at least assured him that he probably wasn't dead _yet_. He twitched his fingers to make sure that he still had arms, and then opened his eyes up all the way to get a better look of where he was. Around him were multiple containers, vials, and tools, all of which having labels in another language. As Steve tried to read them, spots danced in front of his eyes, warning him to stop putting in too much effort. He looked around the rest of the room, his slate-blue eyes landing on a person standing in the corner of the room-next to the entrance-leaning on the crystal support beam. They were looking down, their blonde hair keeping him from seeing their eyes.

Assuming that the person didn't see him, Steve sat up so that he could walk away. Without warning, they looked up at him with a pair of intelligent blue eyes; his blood ran cold. This person wasn't human, that was for sure. Pointed ears replaced rounded ones on the side of their head, and their slitted eyes blinked in surprise and confusion at Steve.

He quickly reacted by trying his best to get away from him, failing greatly. The creature noticed that he was trying to get away and said something softly in a language that he had never heard before, putting his hand up in a gesture of surrender in an obvious attempt to comfort him. Ignoring him, Steve tried harder to get away, slipping one leg over the side of the bed as he began to stand up. Before he knew it, the creature had gotten to him across the room at an inhuman speed, and was holding him in his arms so that he didn't fall.

"Let_ go_," Steve growled, pushing his hand against their chest.

The person did not, and instead chose to slowly and gently sit him back down onto the bed, making sure to not hurt him.

"I'm sorry," the creature spoke-this time in English-greatly surprising Steve. "I am sorry if I frightened you. I do not wish to hurt you. However, you are in no condition to walk. Please refrain from trying to do so until you have healed."

His eyes widened, staring into his big blue eyes. "Y-you . . ."

He smiled kindly. "Can speak English? Yes, indeed I can. Anyway, are you alright? Do you need anything?"

"How did I get here?"

The young man shrugged his shoulders. "To be honest, I have no idea. A friend of mine and I found you in the woods," he answered, pointing behind him with his thumb. "You ran off, and when I eventually found you, you collapsed in my arms. Then we brought you here and treated you."

"Where is 'here'?"

He looked at the water. "Rutela Dam. You're _very _**(Spiderman) **far from home."

"'Far from . . .'?" His eyes widened as he noticed what the creature in front of him was wearing. "Get away!"

He scrambled to get away from him, but he just stared at him calmly and stayed put, watching as Steve tried in vain to escape.

"Yes, I am the person that you came across the other day; 'Raziel, as your comrades call me. However, seeing as that we are not engaged in battle right now, I have no need nor desire to harm you. In fact, I was never eager to fight you in the first place," he said calmly, his blue eyes unwavering.

"What . . . how . . . ?" Steve stuttered, trying to come up with something to say.

"I am not heartless," he exclaimed, crossing his arms. "I intend to take you back to earth once you heal well enough to travel. This would mean that you have to cooperate in return, though."

"How so?" he asked coldly.

"You would not attack me or any other people unless I tell you that it is alright, which is very unlikely. I'm not saying that you would follow my every word, but I know this land like the back of my hand, so if you plan on getting home _alive_, I suggest that you take my advice."

"When _will_ you get me back home?"

"Once you can walk without much assistance-that, and when you can defend yourself-we will depart for earth."

"How do I know if I can trust you?"

He blinked. "That is up to you, _not_ me," he answered, picking up a small satchel on the table. "I'm Link, by the way."

"Steve."

Link put the satchel on the edge of the bed. "This is something that my friend dropped off for you. It has an extra change of clothes and other such things in it; you can change into them, if you want to."

Steve nodded and took the satchel into his hands, looking up at Link.

"I'll go over here," he exclaimed, going behind one of the pillars and looking out at the water to avoid see him getting changed.

Once he was done getting changed into the strange clothes, he tried his best to stand on his own. At first, he failed, but after a little bit more effort, he was able to get over the pain in his left ankle and stand up on his own. Putting the satchel on, he spared a glance at the stuff around him. Just like before, he didn't understand any of the labels, but he still tried to read it. Even if it was in english, judging by how Link had originally spoken to him in another language, he highly doubted that he would be able to know what the words meant.

Sighing, he made his way out, shifting uncomfortably in the clothes. It wasn't that they were itchy or anything like that, but he just wasn't used to wearing garb that complex. Sure, he may have been in a war in the 1940s, but that didn't mean that the standard uniforms were like this.

Link turned towards him. "So you can walk . . ." he muttered under his breath. "Anyway, we should get you back home," he exclaimed, walking to a staircase that had been behind the small room. "It'll take us a day to get there, at the least."

"What do you mean?"

"Well . . . I don't know how to explain it. You'll see when we get there."

Steve trailed behind him, thinking about what he was going to do if worse came to worse. Link was smaller than him, but when he knew him as Raziel, he knew quite well that this was used by him as a weapon rather than a restriction. It also didn't help that he was most likely from this place, meaning that he had the advantage if he tried to run away from him. The other thing that bothered him was what he _was_, exactly. He was obviously not human, but Thor had mentioned had mentioned before that it could be possible that Raziel was from Asgard, so Steve began to assume (and _hope_) that Link was from Alfheim; or something like that.

The thought of Thor slapped him in the face with realization. His teammates! Did they know where he was? If he was alright? What if they thought he was dead?! He would _never _forgive himself, if that was the case!

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" Link asked.

Steve noticed that they had reached the bottom of the stairs. "Yes, I'm fine," he answered him, walking past him. "I just got lost in thought."

Link mumbled something behind him, but it was lost in his ears. Before he could get any further, he felt two hands on his shoulders. He stood still, surprised by him touching him again.

"Not to offend you, or anything of that sort," Link said from behind him. "But, it would seem that you are going in the wrong direction."

His eyes blinked in confusion and embarrassment.

"_That_ is the place that we are going to pass through," he told him, releasing one of his shoulders so that he could point at a glowing structure about a hundred yards away. "The people there are called _Zora_. Do not be alarmed by their appearance; they are awfully kind, once you get to know them." He let go of his other shoulder and began to walk in front of him. "If they greet you, try to return such, okay?"

Steve nodded. "Alright."

Link turned around and began making his way to the palace-like structure ahead of them. As they got closer, he realized how large it was; in fact, it was quite beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that he believed that even someone as intelligent as Tony wouldn't be able to begin to imagine a place of such elegance.

Supporting the whole entire structure were glowing columns, many parts of them carved into shapes that looked oddly like creatures and shells that one would find at the bottom of an ocean. A few of these columns held domes of various sizes, though depending on where they were defined if they were the same size or not. The largest dome that he could see was close to the center of the wide raised platform that looked like a very big fish. Now that he thought about it, it looked like one of the fish statues in Japan; what were they called? Koi? Yes, it looked like a giant koi fish; it even had the large tail to prove such **(the sad part is that you can by koi at PetSmart)**. Other than that, Steve could see that there were multiple small waterfalls pouring from the sides of the platforms and into the wide river below.

The forms of tall people milled around the place, some standing next to the waterfalls, while others walked around and socialized with each other.

_Wait . . . those aren't _people_ . . . They're . . ._

"What the . . ." he trailed off out of surprise.

Link turned around, glancing at him. "_Those_ are Zora," he explained. "They won't harm you, as I said before. If you want, you can wear your cloak so that you don't have to make direct eye contact."

Steve swallowed, pulling the dark navy hood over his head. His clothes weren't exactly like Link's, much to his bewilderment. His tunic was a dark shade of cool grey, while his aforementioned cloak was navy blue. His trousers-unlike Link's-were grey, and his boots were a darker shade of brown leather. His belts had a similar coloration to his boots, but none of them had a scabbard or holster for a weapon. The only weapons that he had were in his bag, and there were only two: a knife and some small stick that was brown and black, with odd designs on it **(sweety, no)**; that, and the tattered remains of his suit. He had an under shirt, but it was a pale grey-only a little brighter than his pants.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Okay." Steve took another step forward, looking at him just to make sure that he wasn't going to try anything. Link didn't, and he merely took the lead and started to make his way down a bridge made out of the same glowing material as the rest of the place. Following him hesitantly, his eyes darted around to see if anything out of the ordinary would happen.

The "Zora" creatures around him were two or three feet taller than him **(seriously, has anyone noticed how freaking tall they are?)**, and looked a lot like fish; hell, if he looked at their ribs he could see gills. They had webbed hands with fingernails, but he could tell by the metal and blue jewelry that they wore that they had little to no need for them. Some of them glanced at him with their slitted amber eyes, but quickly brushed it off and continued on with their day. All of them had heads that were shaped like a fish; one of the most notable ones was an older, wrinkly, and green Zora that had a head shaped like a stingray, though he doubted that he could actually sting him. Then he noticed the females. They didn't wear tops **(nosebleed activated)**, but it wasn't like they exactly had anything to show. Yes, they had breasts, but they lacked . . . well, something.

The warriors (he could easily tell which Zora were fighters) had breastplates that had different patterns that he guessed were used to define different genders. Each one held a weapon in there hand, most of which being shining spears that, much like the rest of the jewelry there, had small sapphires braided into the metals. Two soldiers-who were standing in front of a tall staircase-had spears that had a crescent shape as the spearhead part. One of them-a solid black and pure white Zora-took notice of them and waved, flashing them a toothy smile. Both him and Link waved back, the latter shouting something in another language.

The black Zora asked Link a question, smiling big as he pointed a thumb in the direction of the stairs.

He replied, waving a hand dismissively at his expense.

The Zora laughed, then seemed to agree with him in the same dialect. He then pointed at the platform below the and said something simply, like it was nothing. The Alf nodded and thanked him before beckoning for Steve to follow him, walking down a different staircase that lead to where the Zora had been pointing.

When they made it down the stairs, a remarkably tall, red and white Zora was waiting for them at the bottom. Unlike the rest of the Zora, he had a sword sheathed at his side, while he had a ruffled 17th century tie around his neck, pinned with a small blue gem. A metal collar around his neck that held it in place, along with a navy blue sash that had a small symbol on it that went from his collarbone to his hip, and then around his back. Around his waist was a metal belt with intricate designs and gems. On his shoulders were two metal plates with the same design as his sash, and on his head was a small metal crown with a teardrop shaped pearl at the front and a feather in the back. Unlike the other Zora, he his head was shaped like a shark's **(yes, I did have to look him up)**.

"Greetings, friend!" he said happily, patting Link on the head. "I see that our guest is awake!" He looked at Steve, then dipped his head out of respect. "Hello! I'm Prince Sidon of the Zora, and you are?"

_That would explain the clothes. _"I'm Steve." **(Glorious introduction; you deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for that.)**

"Nice to meet you, Steve!" he responded, shaking his hand quickly. "I wish you luck in your journey back home."

The soldier glanced at Link, who merely shrugged discreetly, and looked back at Sidon. "Sorry to leave so suddenly, Sidon," he apologised, having to crane his neck to look him in the eye.

"Oh, it's alright! As you said before: I need to spare some time for practice in my role. Anyway, the weather is looking well today, so I recommend that you get a move on before it turns sour again."

He nodded and made his way for the nearest exit (which happened to open up to a long bridge over a waterfall), him trailing behind the Alf.

"_Sayonara_! Good luck!" the prince shouted after them excitedly.

* * *

"Are you and Prince Sidon dating?" Steve asked, walking beside Link.

He glanced at him, raising a caramel eyebrow. "No."

"Sorry, I was just curious because of him patting you on the head."

He smiled at him in the same way that a parent would smile at a child when they didn't get a joke because they were too young **(we've all been there)**. "You see, the people here use physical contact to express affection; _even _when it comes to friends. Different races have different ways of doing such, though. The Zora happen to be very kind and inviting, so there form of showing affection can vary from hugs, pats, and holding hands. However, these actions are usually different, depending on the gender and relationship of the people."

"Hmm . . . interesting . . ." he exclaimed, thinking a bit about it until he noticed where they were. "What's this place for?"

After walking a bit down the path, they had approached a small camp, though it looked like the remains of a fire and a few meals were left unkempt around the edges. Next to them was a tall cut out of the rocky hill that they had just walked past that had words in the same language from earlier carved into it.

"Oh, this? Just an enemy outpost," Link answered, his voice remaining neutral.

"'Enemy outpost'? Isn't that dangerous?"

He shook his head. "Yes, but Sidon and I dealt with the monsters threatening us earlier."

"Monsters?"

"This land is plagued by monsters, yes," he confirmed, nodding. "I don't know how much you remember of last night, but you had your own encounter with them."

". . . You mean . . . Do you mean those lizard creatures?" Steve asked, confusion spilling into his voice.

"Indeed; those are called _lizalfos_. They are a type of monster that usually settle around bodies of water, and-unlike most species of monsters-eat almost anything they can find: insects, wildlife, fish, _people_. Because of this, the Zora naturally have a personal grudge against them."

"There are _more _types of monster?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course; lizalfos aren't anywhere _near _being the most dangerous one," he answered, shrugging. "They can most definitely ruin your day, though."

Steve stared at him for a few seconds. "How _old_ are you?"

"Seventeen; eighteen by March."

". . . _Really?!_"

* * *

He followed the strange teenage Alf to a small cabin-like building at the side of the path. Calling it a building was a _bit _too generous, as it was a wood structure with cloth walls. At the top of the building was an oddly designed tower, the very end resembling a masked figure. Around the building, other Alves roamed around in clothing that had horseshoes and horse-head embroidery on it; one man-who was obviously a traveler due to his normal tunic-was sitting at a table on the outside patio, sipping something from a mug. It had taken them a few hours to get there from where the Zora lived, so it was well into the middle hours of the morning. Even so, the man looked like he had been dragged out of bed; he had dark bags under his eyes **(I am personally offended by that, Cap)**.

"Follow me," Link advised him, making a beeline for the small opening at the front. A man that was sitting at a small desk in the common attire was fiddling with his feather and quill pen, scribbling down random things on his paper.

He looked up and noticed that they were standing there; he smiled, greeting them in the foreign language. His Alf friend replied cheerfully to one of the man's questions, then proceeded to ask a question of his own in a polite tone. The man nodded, turned the page of the book in front of him, and wrote down a few words quickly before turning around and asking a little girl standing to the side of his workspace for something. She nodded excitedly, then ran off to a teenage girl that was watching some of the horses under the side overhang of the building while they munched on some oats. The girl shouted a few words breathlessly, then took off behind the place. The teenager she had talked to's eyes hovered over Link and then snapped to a chocolate brown horse staring at him. She quickly got it out of the small stable, effortlessly got its riding tack on, and then led it to where they were. Before she returned to what she had been doing, she smiled and greeted both of them. He waved.

_Oh . . . it's a _stable_ . . ._

Link stated what he assumed was a _"thank you," _and then took the horse's reigns in his hands.

"This is Epona," he explained, patting the lovely clydsdale on the muzzle, earning a satisfied rumble. "Epona, this is Steve."

_Epona, eh? Like the celtic goddess._

He took the soldier's hand, guiding it gently towards her nostrils. Steve had to admit, he was a bit scared of horses, but only because they were very sensitive animals with very strong teeth and bodies; point being, you did _not _want to lock horns with one **(big fluffy unicorns)**.

Just like he had assumed, she sniffed his hand before snorting, inspecting him with her eyes rather than just her sense of smell. When Epona was done sizing him up with her brown eyes, she decided that he wasn't a threat and let him pet her on her forehead.

"She's quite a beautiful horse," he complimented.

The horse in question pulled away, tossing her mane, as if to agree with that.

"Thank you," Link returned. "But-on with the journey-we need to get going if we want to get you home by dusk." He slipped his foot into one of the stirrups, hoisted himself up easily, grabbed the reigns, and held his hand out for Steve. "Epona is probably not going to like having another passenger, but I'm sure that a few apples will persuade her otherwise."

_Fury's POV_

The director paced nervously around the room, though his infamous poker-face concealed any other sign of panic. The reason for his displeasure? Well, the day before, four out of the five Avengers that he had sent to deal with something-one of which being _unconscious_-had returned to him with nothing but scrapes, scratches, bruises, a bit of blood, and bad news. He wanted to get mad at them. He wanted to flip the tables over. He wanted to shout and scold them like they were children who had broken a window playing baseball, but their torn and guilty faces when they returned had made all of his anger melt away into a tense blob of doubt. Fury remembered the exchange:

_"Alright, you're back. Rogers, mission report-"_

_ The sound of metal hitting metal rang out through the white room as a red-white-and-blue shield was dropped unceremoniously in front of him; it almost _glared _at him with blame. If inanimate objects had hands, he was sure that this one would be pointing at him with an unsaid accusation._

_ "He's gone," Clint murmured dejectedly._

_ "What do you mean, 'he's gone'?" Fury demanded, his brow furrowing._

_ "The assassins ambushed us and almost destroyed our Midgardian vehicle," Thor explained, looking at the ground. "Towards the end of the battle, Sir Rogers was attacked, and then he and our enemies disappeared. All that was left was some of his blood and his weapon."_

_ "Where is he now?"_

_Natasha turned towards him, a clear glare on her face. "We don't have that information."_

"_How did they dissapear?"_

"_We don't have that information."_

"_Do you know if he is still _alive_?"_

"_We don't have that information."_

_He sighed, trying to regain his composure. "You mean to tell me that one of this planet's _most powerful _men _vanished _without a trace-along with our enemies-and you 'don't know'?"_

"_Yes, sir."_

_He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get it through his head. ". . . Get to work trying to find him, then. Dr Banner's in the lab, if you need his assistance."_

"_Yes, sir."_

So far, none of them had been able to come up with any information concerning the whereabouts of their missing team member, meaning that his case was sure to run cold after at least a week if they found nothing. At the remains of the scuffle-just as Thor had said-there was nothing but a bit of blood, a damaged van, and a small piece of paper that was written in another language in the place where Rogers had disappeared. From what the others had told him, that note was not there when they left; it had been _planted _there by someone. It did little good, though; even though Banner had worked his ass off trying to figure out what it said, he couldn't find a single alphabetical system that matched it. The closest thing was Japanese, but even that was inaccurate. **(If you know a few Hiragana characters, you can actually see that they look oddly similar to BotW era hylian.)**

At the moment, Fury was burning a path in the floor from walking in the same place in the same way waiting for any updates on their current situation. Agent Hill was standing next to the door-as per usual-and was staring blankly at him, though just a small bit of worry slipped into her eyes.

"Director Fury, sir, perhaps further investigating Raziel will calm you. In fact, it could even be possible that Raziel has a link **(**_**cough) **_to Captain America's disappearance."

He stopped dead in his tracks, looking at her. "Where is Stark?"

"Top floor."

Fury flew out the door quickly; not running, but he was _definitely _speed-walking. When he got in the elevator, he immediately pressed the highest button and stared forward at the door. With a quiet _Ding!_ the elevator doors parted, showing him the small room at the very top of Stark Tower. The original owner of the architectural beauty-who was sitting on the couch-turned his head around lazily to see what the commotion was about.

"Hi, Fury. Nice to see you," he greeted sarcastically, chugging down the contents of a shot glass.

"Mr Stark, I suggest that you stop drinking so much; it will _not _solve your problems," he grumbled, glaring at him.

"Nah, this isn't whisky or alcohol," the playboy muttered, getting up and walking to the bar. "Pepper told me not to drink as much, so this is just water." He sighed, obviously conflicted with this. "Anyway, what do you want?"

Fury's eye narrowed at him, earning an unamused glance. "Where are the files on Raziel?"

He rolled his eyes, then began to dig under the counter for something; he found it, and threw the file down on the stainless steel surface. "There."

"Why is this information up here, rather than in Dr Banner's lab?"

Tony shrugged. "I was looking at them last night; I was trying to figure some things out," he deadpanned, filling up his glass with tap water.

The director sighed in annoyance, but still picked up the file and opened it up; _two pages_. Each one of them had very little helpful information:

"_Subject name: Unknown_

"_Given name: Raziel_

"_Species: Unknown_

"_Background: Unknown_

"_Age: Suspected to be in the mid-teens_

"_Gender: Most likely male_

"_Battle Analysis: Raziel has only appeared once, seemingly to deal with the unknown assassins that have been attacking the people of Manhattan and New York. He/She seems to be good with weapons, as Raziel has already nearly bested the Avengers in combat. However, in the encounter between the Avengers and Raziel, he/she was greatly injured, and it is under speculation that Raziel broke a few ribs and maybe one of his arms._

"_Lab Analysis: Upon further investigation, it has been concluded that Raziel is not human, and his actual species remains unknown. Although the subject appears to look like a human, due to the lack of facial recognition (subject has not revealed their physical identity), there is no way to see what features the subject has, other than that of their clothing and body._

"_Conclusion: Raziel is of a potentially cold case, and will need to be confronted in more cases in order to properly receive identification. It is suspected that the subject could be someone that the assassins are trying to put away with."_

The other page was nothing but blurry pictures, meaning that it was-as the file said-a case that could possibly run cold. However, this was the closest thing to a lead that they had on Steve, so he was going to have to make do with what he had.

"Come on, Stark," he commanded, pressing the button to get the elevator to open.

"Where are we going?"

"The lab."

Tony poured out the rest of the water, then walked around the counter to stand next to him. "For what?"

". . . Data."

_Link's POV_

"Come on, Steve," he urged, walking up the path. The human in question was following behind him, breathing like a fish out of water from the strain of walking up the steep hill. No travelers even came there, making this area secluded and only accessible to Link and Zelda; well, it _was _before he appeared. Link couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for Steve's struggle to climb the hill-he was injured, after all-but he was going to have to get on his feet quickly if he wanted to survive.

"I'm . . . coming . . ." he breathed, trying to catch up with him. "Tell me . . . why we can't . . . just . . . use Epona?"

The horse that was walking next to him snorted, as if to disagree with such. She stamped her hooves and looked at Link with a look that said: _"Why do _I _have to deal with the stupid human?"_

He hushed her. "It would put too much strain on her, and a grumpy Epona is something that you _do not_ want to witness."

Steve managed to fall in beside him, though he still looked a bit exhausted from it. ". . . Fine . . . When will we get there?" he asked, shielding his eyes with his hand as he looked up at the sky.

Link looked up. "About one more minute. Are you alright? I could carry you, if you want."

The human smiled, probably finding such an offer to be amusing. "No, thank you; I could do this all day **(*smug smile*)**."

He nodded. "Okay . . . if you say so."

Epona trotted up the rest of the way, looking down at them.

_"Come on; what's taking you so long?" _she seemed to be taunting.

Glaring at her, he pulled himself up the hill and took his place next to her. He held his hand out for Steve, who gratefully took it. Once he was able to get up, he looked around at the plateau.

"Where are we? This isn't my home," he exclaimed, a panicked edge sharpening his slate colored eyes.

"This," Link began to answer, gesturing around him, "is the Great Plateau. We're going to have to wait about-" he looked up, "-an hour until I can get you back to earth."

"Why would we have to wait?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "You'll see."

"Please tell me."

"I'm sorry, but even I am forbidden to tell you such," he apologised, then looked warily in each direction before leaning forward and whispering: "You never know who's ears are listening."

His eyes widened. "You mean the assassins," he whispered.

He nodded. "If you don't make me tell you about the way to get you home, I'll tell you about them."

Steve's eyes were the size of rupees, which were about the size of the palm of someone's hand. "Really?"

"Yes; you deserve to know."

Link looked around again, then flicked his hand in a _"Come hither," _gesture. "Come, we need to get to the cabin."

* * *

The small hylian flipped through the Old Man-no, _King Rhoam's_-journal, his eyes flicking over the words quickly. In truth, he had already read the diary hundreds of times over, but there wasn't much to do on the Great Plateau. He had already showed Zelda the book, but she told him to leave it at his old cabin; she said it was like "taking a body out of it's grave and moving it just for pleasure". Although the princess wanted to keep it, she swallowed down her grievances and left it with him, to rest forever.

"What are you reading?" Steve asked from the old bed he was sitting on.

Link looked up at him from the rickety table. "Just the diary of the man that used to live here."

"Oh . . . I didn't see anyone else here."

"Well, he died not too long ago."

"May he rest in peace, then," he said softly.

He smiled. "We'll probably pass by his grave on the way to earth. He was very kind, I must admit."

"What was his name?"

The hylian hesitated. ". . . Rhoam."

"Rhoam?"

"Yes, Rhoam."

"How did he die?"

"Old age," he lied, though he showed no signs of such.

"Hmm . . ." Steve hummed, his slate-colored eyes looking around the small, makeshift cabin. "So, could you tell me about these assassins, please?"

"Of course; which question do you wish for me to answer first?"

"How about . . . what are they called?"

"The Yiga."

"What's their history?"

". . . They used to be part of a tribe called the _Sheikah_. They were the trusted advisors of the royal family here, but they started messing with things that they shouldn't have been. Due to this, people started to fear them, which eventually pushed the king at the time to banish them from court and their practices. Most of the Sheikah were content with this, however, some of them felt so bitter and betrayed that they pledged allegiance to a demon. Their goal is to kill in order to resurrect him."

His eyebrows shot up, making too little dirty blonde arches over his eyes. "That wasn't what I expected, but . . . what do they have to with you?"

"In order to fully resurrect their master, the Yiga require a-er _sacrifice_. This sacrifice requires a person who has a certain holy power-and pure blood-and I happen to be one of those people. Defeating me would get their job half done," Link answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"What kind of holy power? Is it something that you obtained?"

"No, when they search for someone with this 'holy power,' that person is usually born with it. Even if I did obtain it, I would have to go through a series of trials that require me to give up a _lot _of what I have. Not that I wouldn't be willing, but I was saved a bit of a longer journey."

"How long have they been up to this?"

"Around ten thousand years."

He choked on nothing, coughing to clear his throat. At first, he was alarmed, but soon realized that he had just been surprised by the question; he was not in medical danger.

"_That long_?"

Link nodded, his expression remaining blank. "Yes, they have plagued Hyrule for that many years, unfortunately. If I may, I would like to ask you if you want to depart now."

Yet again, his eyes were the size of rupees. "You mean . . . I can go home now?"

"Of course," he answered, standing up. "It will take us around ten minutes to get there on horseback."

"We aren't going to walk?"

He shook his head. "No. It will be cold, though, so I'll lend you a doublet," he exclaimed, handing him the garment.

"Where did you get this from?" he asked, taking it into his hands and inspecting it.

"I have my ways," he answered smuggly, his lips tugging upwards a bit. "Anyway, put that on quickly."

"Do I need to take off my other clothes?"

"I wouldn't recommend it, but earth is warmer, so you can just slip it off when we get there."

"Alright," Steve answered, pulling it over his head before putting his satchel back on. "I'm ready when you are."

Link nodded to confirm that he was, then walked out and whistled for Epona. The chocolatey mare had been grazing nearby, so when she heard him, she wasted no time in galloping to his side.

"Let's go, Epona," he stated, throwing her an apple.

She caught it with ease and devoured it, then looked at him.

_"Where are we going?"_

* * *

Flakes of snow stung his cheeks, making his face look flushed. Mount Hylia was a very cold place; not nearly as cold as Hebra, but the spirits of those who had died during the Calamity-and every other war in Hyrule's history, actually-were told to wander there aimlessly, making the howling wind as bitter as their departed souls. As a person who was aware of the fact that he was an incarnation of a hero, he was not quick to argue with something like that. The place had such an eerie sadness over it that it made him want to fall into despair.

Epona whinied when a large snowball rolled down the mountain, narrowly missing them by a few inches. He patted her on the side of the neck. "I-I-It's okay, g-girl," he coaxed, though his reward was a mouthful of snow rather than a comforted horse. She shook her mane-similar to a dog-and pushed on, careful to not become so startled that she bucked.

Steve squeezed his waist tighter, making the small hylian a bit nauseous. "H-H-How m-much f-f-f-farther?" he asked, his teeth clacking together.

"A-About f-f-five more m-minutes," he answered through his teeth, trying to redirect his steed to an easier route. He spurred her, earning a surprised nicker and a change in pace. "Th-there!" he told her, pointing over her bulk at King Rhoam's gravestone. She rumbled determinedly, galloping faster and stronger through the ruthless blizzard.

". . . C-c-cold," the human whimpered behind him, his forehead pushing against his back. His arms loosened around him.

"S-Steve?" Link turned around, failing to see his face. "S-S-Steve, are y-you . . . alr-right?"

He looked up at him, his lips the color of his tunic. He went limp again, and this time he was sure that he was unconscious.

"N-No! S-S-Stay with m-me, S-S-S-Steve!" he begged, pulling one of his arms over his shoulders. Hypothermia was _not _going to do his wounds any favors. "W-Wake up!"

Epona, who sensed the urgency in his voice (something that he rarely possessed), dug her hooves deep into the snow, trudging up the mountain until she got to the top. Link took the human into his arms, looking at her with scared eyes. "G-Go home; be c-c-careful!" he commanded.

The horse whinnied nervously. _"What about you?"_

"I-I'll be f-f-fine! I just need to g-g-get him home! _Please_!"

She hesitated, but loyally dipped her head and trotted down the hill, her hooves occasionally slipping on the ice. Epona looked back at him one more time, her brown eyes tracing over him warily. _"Be safe."_

* * *

The young hylian stumbled around, searching for a place to go. He knew where he was; Long Island Sound, but that did _not _help his situation. Where should he go? Why was Steve so _heavy_? What should he do? The thoughts swam around in his mind, a few of them surfacing before sinking again.

He shifted his position, the human in his arms groaning in pain at the action.

"Steve, wake up, please."

He didn't wake up.

Swallowing his frustration, Link's cerulean blue eyes darted around the woods for an option. None came, but he considered walking forward until he came to the edge of the trees, then walking along the outskirts to see if he could find a path. Nodding in satisfaction, he decided to do such. Whether it would do him any good or not, he did not know, but it was worth a try.

Link weaved his way through many of the trees that towered over him, looking at the branches and leaves to see what kind they were to entertain and calm himself. Every once in a while, he would have to reposition the man in his arms in order to give his arms some rest. Although everything seemed quiet-other than the occasional sound of owls or crickets-he was still ready and alert; he was prepared for an attack. It was quite unlikely that he would be attacked there, but the Yiga could be surprising sometimes **(not to mention obnoxious)**.

The snap of a twig on his right made him freeze in his tracks. Not knowing what-or _who_-was watching him or approaching, he dragged Steve behind a large, rotting oak and hid in the partially hollowed-out trunk. Through one of the holes in the bark-probably done by a woodpecker, if he had to guess-he could make out the shape of two people: a woman and a broad-shouldered man.

"Did you hear something, Thor?" the woman asked, her voice hushed to a whisper.

". . . Yes, I think it came from that direction," the man murmured back, his voice nothing but a low rumble. However, that wasn't Link's focus; the man was pointing in his direction. "Should we call in Sir Stark and Sir Barton?"

". . . You call them; I'll look around for the source of the noise."

His blood ran cold as he looked back down at Steve, who seemed to be nowhere close to awakening. He thought of a few words in Hylian Tongue that would probably make Zelda feed him a frog, but he got over it quickly and darted away. She hadn't seen him (yet), but she _definitely_ heard him. How did he know this? Simple: the sound of feet crunching leaves at a fast pace grabbed his attention.

"Thor! It's Raziel!" she shouted, only to keep pursuing him.

Given the proper motivation he needed, Link ran faster, trying his best to avoid her. He was faster than most of his opponents-and he had already fought this woman before, so he knew that she was slower than him-but with the added weight of Steve, he was barely ahead of her. He knew he was in trouble when he felt a throwing knife narrowly miss his foot.

"I see him!" a male voice shouted from somewhere ahead. Link took a sharp turn to the left-almost dropping the human-and picked up the pace, his lungs practically screaming for air. Before he could get any farther, though, he felt the familiar pain of something slamming into his side, sending him into a pine tree. He got up quickly, grabbing Steve-who he had let go of when he was sent flying-and ran away again, his ribs greatly disagreeing to the arrangement.

"He's carrying someone!" the male voice shouted again, accompanied by the loud _Thump! _of a projectile hitting a tree.

_Good, it missed me-_

Right on cue, the hammer crashed into him again, forcing him to stop and leave Steve on the ground near him in order to defend himself. Link drew the Master Sword, ignoring the misery that was his chest. He was going to fight forever, if he needed to.

_Thor's POV_

He watched with amusement and awe as the person picked themself off the ground again, taking on a defensive stance as they drew their weapon. Raziel had returned, so it seemed.

Catching Mjolnir, the god smirked a bit, but realization made him think otherwise; who was Raziel carrying? He was sure that he could see a limp figure lying among the leaves behind him; perhaps it was someone that was injured. If so, Thor was prepared to help a person or kill them; whichever became a priority first.

An arrow sailed in the air, making Raziel bat it away. Clint grumbled something over the earpiece, then decided to talk for all of them to hear. "You're going to have to distract him."

"How so?" Lady Natasha asked.

"Keep him busy; find an opening, and make sure it stays open. I need enough room to get a hit on him, okay?"

"Gotcha," Tony muttered. The playboy charged the person, but Raziel merely grabbed him by his metallic wrists and planted their feet, making it to where they didn't move. Raziel flung him in the other direction, but Tony managed to veer out of the way of a tree just in time.

Thor rolled his eyes; wow, they really knew _nothing_. He decided to have a bat at it, and ran at him, swinging his hammer violently in order to smash them. Raziel bobbed and weaved, evading the strike and slashing with his sword. The god felt it graze his arm.

"Why, you-!"

Nat ran past him and stabbed with her knife, barely missing. Now cornered against a tree with a person behind them, Raziel had nowhere to go, unless he ditched them. Natasha tried again, slicing at the their arms. Raziel caught the blade in the space between the crossguard and blade of the sword, making it to where they were wedged together.

_Sir Barton, make haste!_

Clint did not disappoint, and in a few seconds, a tranquiliser dart was implanted in Raziel's chest. Their enemy gasped, clutching the wound as blood seeped through his tunic.

"You don't like that, eh?" Tony asked, walking up beside him. "A shot through the lungs isn't that comfortable, now is it?"

Raziel reacted to this in a very unexpected way: he lunged at the playboy, punching him so hard in the face that his mask became dented.

"Ow!" he shouted. "You broke my nose!" Tony lunged and grabbed onto Raziel's arm, the loud noise of a bone breaking echoing in the woods. Raziel tried to pull away from him, but he _literally_ had an iron grip. "Hold still!"

"Stark . . ." Nat warned to deaf ears, putting a hand on his armored shoulder.

The man in question let go of his broken upper arm, but replaced it with the collar of their tunic. Thor was sure that they would nearly be nose-to-nose if they were any closer. "God dammit, if you don't stop squirming I'll _put you out of your misery_!"

Instead of heeding his warning, Raziel slashed at his stomach. Tony jumped back, but the elegant blade ripped through his strong suit like it was tin foil, leaving it gnarled around a shallow cut in his gut. He backed up as much as he could, standing right next to the unmoving person next to him. Blood glistened on his sword.

He staggered, his hand hovering over the injury. "You . . . how . . . ?"

Another arrow sailed in the air, but Raziel batted it away again, not even turning towards it; he seemed more interested in Stark at the moment.

Thor's gaze hardened; even _Nat _seemed shocked by how he had performed such a feit.

"Surrender!" he bellowed, pointing his hammer at Raziel. "We have an archer! Make another foul move," the god began, glancing in Clint's direction, "and your friend here will become a pin-cushion!"

Raziel didn't seem too overjoyed by this plan, as he didn't move a bit.

"Permission to fire?" Clint asked over the earpiece.

"Granted," both Lady Natasha and Sir Stark answered sternly.

Before they could do anything else-except for the agent with arrows, who had already fired-their opponent jumped quickly to shield his companion with his body, the arrows embedding themselves in his back. He showed no sign of pain, but the person he was protecting stirred, their arms moving.

_He looks vaguely like a porcupine_, Thor observed, looking at the shafts jutting out of the back of his ribs.

The strange man sat up, a navy hood pulled over his head; it looked similar to Raziel's, but this man's was a darker shade, longer, and had less distinct designs on it. The rest of his clothes-also differing from Raziel's-were darker and of muted colors; even the leather parts of his ensemble were a darker shade.

"_Tony?!_" the man asked, his voice astonished yet relieved. "What happened to you? Are you okay?"

"Who-" Tony's voice caught in his throat. "_Steve?! _What the _hell _are you _doing _with . . . with _him_?" All eyes were on Raziel, who patiently sat on his knees next to Steve. Despite being next to the possible enemy, the soldier looked relaxed and comfortable, as if he was not even a slight threat.

He pulled off his hood, revealing that he was perfectly fine, other than his lips being a tad pale. "He saved me. What, you really think I just walked up to the first person I saw?"

Nat looked like she was trying to not say _"Yes,"_ but Thor spoke before she got the chance. "Where have you been? What _happened _to you?"

"I-I'm not sure . . ." Steve looked at Raziel, just noticing his injuries. "What did you _do _to him?"

"What did _we _do to him?" Clint asked, walking out from the shadows of the tall trees. "Look what he did to Tony!"

He raised an eyebrow. "He didn't _shoot _him!"

"He broke my nose, and he cut my armor to bits," the playboy interjected.

"And you broke his arm, Clint shot him in the back and one of his lungs, and Thor hit him twice with Mjolnir," Nat added, counting the attacks with her fingers. "I helped with the second action, though, to be fair."

Steve sat up, Raziel placing a hand on his arm in order to help him. "Just . . . don't attack him again."

"Why? He won't talk to us! What was he going to do with you; _drop _you and run?" Tony pressed.

"You carried me?" Raziel's hood twitched, most likely showing that he was nodding. "Thanks, kid."

"'_Kid_'?!"

Raziel lifted his right arm-the one that was not broken-and pulled his hood off, revealing the face of an alf.

"I am the one that you have called 'Raziel'," he said, his beautifully piercing blue eyes watching them, "but, please; just call me Link."

**End of 3rd Chapter**

* * *

** Surprised? That one was a lot longer than most of my other chapters; I'm starting to be proud of myself! I feel like I updated this just yesterday! I'm getting better at update speeds, then, aren't I? Btw, the newest chapter of We Will Prevail is going to be posted in a little while (maybe another week or so), so just prepare yourself for something weird. Cliffhangers help with leverage and ideas for a new chapters, so I may take a while. **_**Sayonara!**_


	4. Chapter 4: The Fellowship

**Hi. I'm tired. My brain hurts. I think that there's something in my eye. Coronavirus sucks. Please enjoy.**

**Chapter 4: The Fellowship**

* * *

_Zelda's POV_

The Princess of Hyrule sat at her desk, occasionally standing up to think or ponder what could be going on in her land. The Yiga were planning an uprising, and they were going to other places behind closed doors in order to rise victorious. It most certainly did _not _help that a lot of their acts were out of her reach, meaning that she had only one person to rely on: _Link_. Of course, he was dependable in every way, but she felt a tad guilty and restricted from it; it was like being trapped in a tube, and your only knowledge of what was happening around you came from a voice. To be fair, it was like their original roles had been swapped, though both of them were still trying to benefit each other.

She sighed in annoyance, placing her elbows on the table-which wasn't good etiquette-and massaged her temples, as if that would help her get an answer. Standing up, realizing that she wouldn't find out anything, Zelda walked across the small walkway that led from her study to her room, where she plopped herself down at her desk, and flipped through her diary. After searching more, she placed her index finger on the start of an entry, tracing the words with both her hand and her beautiful green eyes:

_ "Today, my efforts have proved fruitless. Indeed, I am aware that this has been the case in the majority of my life, but this time, it has nothing to do with my abilities. Recently-as I have already mentioned-monsters have crawled from the depths of the Dark World, only to torment my people once again. _

_ "From what Link and I have been able to observe, we have deduced that this misoccurence could have something to do with the Yiga planning against this now-prosperous land. They are suffering; my people, that is. I can feel it deep inside, like my heavenly magic is drawn from my spirit and theirs' alike. It saddens me, that is for certain._

_ "As much as I would like to assist them, our search for a solution to our problems has shown little to no results. All that we know so far is that the Yiga have been searching just as determinedly for something as we are, but what they are searching for is a relic-_not_ a compromise. They have attacked this new place-'earth,' it is called-and even ended a few lives. Sleep and answers still evade me, especially_ _after _that_ dream . . ."_

Zelda shivered at the thought of the nightmare; it was a bad omen, that much she knew. Whatever had happened, she was informed of too little . . .

A knock at the door cut her thoughts off. She turned around quickly, her legs sending her out of the chair like it was on fire.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she muttered, smoothing her dress before she opened the door.

"_Ohio_, Princess," Link greeted, holding a basket full of sweets, pastries, and bread. "I apologise for coming at such an early hour in the day; did I interrupt your thinking?"

She smiled kindly, stepping to the side in order to let him in. "No, not at all! You were just the person I wanted to talk to!"

He cocked his head to one side, confused by this. ". . . I am?"

The princess shut the door behind him, then sat down at her desk again, where Link placed the basket of food. "Indeed; the last few days have shown to be uneventful. I have received very few updates on our enemy's status. If it doesn't seem too much, I was going to ask if you had learned anymore . . . ?"

Link shuffled uncomfortably, not meeting her gaze. She noticed this, and raised a well-treated blonde eyebrow. "I was planning on telling you about that, but . . ." He looked outside through her balcony, his brilliant cerulean eyes reflecting the sunlight. "Would you care to have a picnic today? At your favorite spot, I mean."

Zelda's intelligent green eyes wandered to a stack of papers on her desk; she then turned back to him, clapping her hands excitedly. "Of course! It's been so _long_ since I've been able to get out of the castle. I'll have to talk to the council about such; it'll only take me a few minutes, though. Would you meet me by the front gates?"

He returned her beaming smile with one of his own. "Yes, I'll meet you there with your horse."

"Thank you, Link!" she thanked him, flashing him another smile. "This means so much to me!"

* * *

"They're still here . . ." she murmured in astonishment, gently brushing her fingers against the delicate petals of the pretty flower. "The Silent Princess has thrived in our absence, hasn't it?"

They were sitting beneath a tall-and very old-oak near the entrance to Hebra, but still within the glimpse of Hyrule Castle. It had been there, a little over a hundred years ago, that they had sat; Zelda had tried to get Link to eat a frog, here. It seemed so long ago, and it really was; when they could talk face-to-face to the Champions of Old, to her father, to the residents of castle town. But there was a replacement for each of them; the Champions had successors, Zelda had taken the throne, and castle town had been restored to its former glory. It was all bittersweet, now.

Link nodded. "Yes, they are much easier to come by nowadays. They're still rare, though."

Zelda sat back up, looking at the Hero of Hyrule; he was _definitely _hiding something. "What did you want to tell me?"

**(I love you, Zelda-jk, that didn't happen.) **"I wanted to tell you about the Champions of Earth. I have come across them again, Princess."

Her jaw went slack. "Really? What happened? Did you speak to them?"

"More than that," he stated, "but, one of them arrived in Hyrule, recently."

Her eyes were the size of plates. "When?"

"Two nights ago; Sidon and I found him near dead on the path to Zora's Domain. We treated his wounds, and when he woke up the next morning, I took him home, but . . ." Link took a deep breath. "When I confronted his teammates, they asked me to join them."

They sat in silence for a few seconds, the loyal knight looking for a reaction while the princess waited for an explanation. "And, then?"

He shrugged. "I left to seek your approval; I didn't want to agree to such without your opinion. Also . . . these humans aren't exactly 'warm' when it comes to me," he elaborated, looking at the ground. "They've never seen a hylian before."

Zelda bit her lip, her eyes hovering over the flower. "I . . ."

The flower almost spoke to her, the blue and white petals softly whispering: _"It's alright, dear. Take your time. All will be well in the end. At this place, where the beautiful flower before me thrived from your touch, you decided to give Link a chance. And look, I still remain, after all this time; I _am _your friendship. I _am _Hyrule. So, why not equally share your joy among others? Give these humans a chance, too; they have earned such, just by protecting what they call 'home' just as you have."_

"I think that you should accept," she answered, looking him in his brilliant cerulean eyes.

Link still seemed very interested in the grass. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yes; although I do not agree with a few of these Champions' habits, I feel that allying them could help both of our kingdoms." She paused. ". . . Not only that, but I must say: I am a tad curious."

The knight smiled. "To be honest, I am too. I wish to learn more about earth; it is a very interesting and diverse land, though some things in Hyrule are frowned upon there."

"Like what?"

"Well . . ." he tapped his forehead, trying to think. "Not all humans view equality the same way. For example, some parts of earth still cradle slavery and racism; not something that you would find here."

"Ah . . ." Zelda brought her knees up to her chin, hugging her legs as she leaned against the aged trunk of the tree. "Now, how about we have our picnic? No more seriousness, for now; I need a break from that!"

He smiled. "Yes, Princess."

_Banner's POV_

"So, what was he like?" the scientist asked Steve for the hundredth time that day.

"He _is _nice," Steve confirmed uncomfortably.

"How so? Was he faking it? Is he human? How old is he?"

"He saved him, he seemed genuine, he is definitely _not _human, and he is in his midteens," Natasha answered. "And, Bruce? Please stop pestering Steve; he just got back last night."

He nodded, slumping back down on the couch. "And, you, Nat? What do you think about Raz-eh, Link?"

She considered this, then took a sip of her glass of water. "I think that he is skilled when it comes to healing others; Steve, your wounds were in great shape when you were returned to us."

"You say it like he's a missing dog, or something," Tony grumbled from the other side of the couch, his head propped up on a pillow while his legs were sprawled over the arm. He looked mad. "Besides, that's all you have to say about him? Personally, I think-no, _know_-that he is a cocky asshole."

"Somebody having a midlife crisis?" Clint mocked, sitting on the chase lounge.

"Shut the hell up."

"Stop it," Steve sighed. "Tony, don't be like that; Link isn't really arrogant."

"Yeah, _sure_, Capsicle."

All of them were quiet for a few seconds, but the soldier sitting next to him decided to speak up again. "Why were you at Long Island Sound last night?"

Bruce glanced at Nat, who caught his gaze. ". . . Well, we were searching for a lead on you, and we noticed that there was a spike in energy levels in the area that you had gone missing in, so we decided to have a look. Do you _know _what caused that?"

He shook his head. "No. Before Link got me back there, we were in a snowy area; it was so cold that I passed out. After that, all I remember is waking up when all of you were attacking him."

"WE WEREN'T-!"

Natasha waved her hand dismissively. "Save your breath, Stark; I'll admit, we shouldn't have done that."

The scientist drummed his fingers on his coffee cup, watching as the vibrations made ripples on the surface of the dark, bitter drink. "So, when is he going to come here? You _did_ ask him to join, right?"

Clint shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, but he declined our offer; for now, at least. He said it 'Wasn't his place to decide,' or something like that. Razie-er, _Link_ told us that he would contact us whenever he got word on if he could or not. What do you think about that, Cap?"

The man in question looked at the ground, deep in thought. "When I asked him how he would get me home, he said something about him being 'forbidden' to do so. From what I can guess, he has to ask permission from someone he works for . . . Now that I think about it, he did mention that there was a royal family where he was from."

"Oh, boy . . ." Tony mumbled. **(My mom doesn't like the Queen of England because she visited America when she was pregos with me, and she couldn't go get KFC cuz she was going through the area. Sorry.) **He pinched the bridge of his nose. "So, you think he's so obedient that he'll turn us down for his 'Master'?"

Steve scowled. "He's not a dog, Tony. He's just like a human."

"Yeah, we kinda _are _humans, but that never stopped Fury from treating us like shit on a leash," he pouted.

"What are we talking about?" Thor asked, walking into the living room; he noticed his mad expression. "Is there something troubling you, Sir Stark?"

"No, I'm fine. Just _peachy_."

The god sat down next to Bruce on the couch, making it shift a bit. "So, how are you, Sir Banner?"

"Hmm . . . So-so," he answered, looking at Tony. "Do you think he'll refuse to join?"

"It would be a good idea to."

"Tony, really; stop it, please," Steve chided. "But, no; I think that Link _will _join the Avengers. He seems like the kind of person to value a team. Although . . ."

". . . 'Although'? What?"

"He also acted a bit . . . well, _reserved_ when I was with him. He had this look in his eyes . . . I don't really know how to describe it though . . ."

"Aged? Sad? Distant?" Nat suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"Kind of . . . thank you, ma'am," Steve responded. "Link looked like he was a bit . . . regretful, if anything. Maybe even a bit nostalgic."

"He's a teenager. What do you expect?" Tony mocked, smirking.

"Maybe . . . He just seemed way too mature for a teenager, though. He _told _me he is seventeen."

"How long are years where he's from?"

He shrugged. "I don't know; I never asked him about that."

"_Why_? Why didn't you interrogate him while you could?!"

"Are you _insane_? No! I did ask him a few questions about the assassins because he _agreed _to! Why would I want to do that?" he argued.

"We're _supposed _to."

Bruce sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as they continued to argue. Although they had set aside their differences before the battle with the Chitauri, they still could tear into each other, but without the looming threat of such _literally_ happening. His brown eyes wandered to the tablet in his lap.

"Energy spike developing near the first confrontation," he exclaimed, cutting off the argument.

Tony stopped shouting and stared at him. "When will it fully develop?"

"Three hours, at the least."

"7:00 pm?" Cap suggested. "I can work with that."

"Good," Banner observed. "Now, who's going to go tell Fury?"

_Link's POV_

The young hylian bowed his head, listening to the sounds of the creak of abandoned equipment and a few pigeons that scavenged for scaps. Epona crouched down at his side. His palms hovered over the rough cement below him, preparing to attack when something didn't seem right. Pointed ears twitched and cerulean eyes flickered beneath blonde lashes as he waited for something, _anything_, to change.

_"Where will they appear today, Your Grace Farore?"_

_ "Go to the second place in which you explored; the _first _time you encountered your soon-to-be teammates. Then, turn south, and keep on going until you get to a place without human breath. _There_ you will find them. Tread carefully, Hero . . . Thin ice will show itself when _they _wish for it to . . ."_

Link's eyes snapped open all the way when a remarkably chubby bird landed beside him, bobbing its head to see if he had any food. In response to this, he flicked his hand in a warning to back off, the pigeon cocking its head to one side in confusion at the gesture. Although hesitant, he nudged its chest with the back of his hand, startling it so much that it flew away quickly; it made a frightened-albeit quiet-gurgling sound as it fluttered away in the dark.

Something scraped the ground below him, making him peek over the edge of the abandoned apartment complex. _"Place without human breath"_ . . . This old building had burned in a fire long ago, making most of the old walls peeled and charred, the only remnants of the former residents being the old and melted frame of a metal bead, the groaning floors, and spindly metal support beams that leaned a bit from the weight of the roof. The building was definitely over a few decades old-meaning that it had a different design-so it hadn't been repaired nor inhabited by anyone other than a few homeless people and animals over the years. Despite this, most of the walls, floors, and stairs were still intact.

Link watched as a red van with _"News"_ written in white on the side pulled up to the side, a few people crawling out. The mare beside him rumbled nervously.

_Huh . . . What would a News station van be doing here?_

A woman with blonde hair and dark brown eyes-presumably the reporter-stepped out of the passenger side. Like many of the people he had seen sometimes at night on earth, she was wearing clean and smart clothes: white shirt, ash colored jacket that was buttoned up at the rib-area, charcoal grey pencil skirt that went down to her knees, well-cared-for hair that was wavy and reached her waist, and high heels. She was obviously wearing make-up, though her face didn't look caked on. Her nails were relatively long and red.

"Alex!" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips as she looked around her, her sleek hair swinging around her. "Where is he?"

A man that looked around the same age as her-mid-twenties-poked his head out from behind the van, holding a large camera. Like her, he was dressed in a sharp black jacket and slacks, a wine-colored shirt underneath, and dress shoes adorning his feet. His face was free of any stubble, and his hair-also blonde-was long enough to be tied back in a small, barely noticeable ponytail, if it could even be called that.

"Yes, Riley?" he squeaked.

_He looks a bit like Abelard . . ._

Riley huffed, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground **(Story of Evil! Yee!)**. "They're going to be here in _ten minutes_!" she shouted, gesturing towards the glimmering gold watch on her wrist. "Are we _ready_?! You'd lose your head if it wasn't attached to your body; Gods!" **(Servant of Evil *sobs*)**.

"Sorry, sis . . ." he sheepishly apologised, some of the other people grabbing equipment out of the back of the van. "If I'm correct, you need me to chaperone the preparations, look out for any interruptions, and call in anything?"

The woman grumbled something under her breath, then looked back up at him after face palming. "_Yes, _Alex," Riley said through her teeth. "Forgetting something?"

". . . Tell Ava?"

She stamped her foot in frustration. "Keep. Them. Stalled! We are under cover for a _reason_! If they find out what we're looking for . . ." Her brow furrowed. "Get to work!" she snapped.

Alex shouted orders at the other people-who Link was now sure were Yiga in disguise-and then scrambled after her, stuttering a report.

Hylia, Link thought, was I like that a hundred years ago?

More soldiers poured into the building across from him, some digging through the wreckage (it was a well aged office building that had also suffered from burns), others setting up guards on the outer edges of the property. Riley had entered the remains of the building long ago, Alex occasionally walking around to see if the other Yiga were doing their jobs well. Other than this, they did nothing.

It was when another van pulled up-this one pitch black-that he stood up quickly, squinting down at the passengers. As he expected, the Avengers were there: Natasha, Tony, Thor, Clint, and most of all, _Steve_. The Yiga immediately took notice, slipping into the shadows of the building as they drew their weapons. Scythes and carvers glinted dully in the moonlight. Red and white masks bore into the eyes of their enemies.

_Here we go again._

The humans climbed out of the vehicle, ignorant of the assassins waiting at the entrance. When they came close enough to be in range, he nocked an arrow, making Epona back up hastily. In little time, four assassins fell dead on the ground, arrows jutting from their chests and throats. The Avengers jumped at the intrusion, surprise glowing around them as they prepared themselves for a fight. After a few seconds of nothing else, they cautiously continued, slipping through the door.

Link clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, calling Epona to follow him. She obliged, trotting up to him as he grabbed her reins, leading her quietly down from the building and to the side of the other one; he had scouted for an entrance big enough for her _long_ ago.

One of the scouts he had failed to shoot rounded the corner, passing them up when he hid in the dark. Continuing to slink in the darkness with his horse, he passed by another guard, then slipped through the small gap in one of the walls. He hid behind another wall, watching the Avengers as they walked through the empty corridors, looking around for any other enemies. Seeing none, he followed them in silence, making sure that they didn't see him.

Although the average person would think that trailing behind possible comrades wouldn't be common sense, Link was curious. What were the Yiga looking for? What did it have to do with the Avengers? How would the humans react? He wanted to know. But, for now, he would watch them until he knew that they really needed him. No surprises.

His cerulean blue eyes hovered over the rest of the corridor before he carefully snuck through the shadows. At one point-when he needed to turn around-he nearly ran into Thor, but was able to stop and stay out of earshot. The group came to a split in the corridor, inspecting the two paths before taking a left. Link, however, took the right. It almost _radiated_ negative energy; yes, this was an amazing idea!

_Steve's POV_

This was not the best idea. After he had been voted to tell Fury where they needed to go-Banner trailing behind him-the director had waved them off to prepare. They had a simple plan: bust in, fight whoever seemed to be a challenge, and then take the ones that were still alive to Stark Tower for interrogation. Simple? Yes. Delusional? Most definitely.

The moment he saw some of the assassins-Yiga, they were called-drop dead in front of them, he _knew_ with certainty that Link was there. Clint hadn't fired, and they didn't even carry around _wooden_ arrows.

However, the small Alf had yet to show himself. He found his eyes darting around the many long hallways, looking for any sign of his presence. Despite this, Link was still nowhere to be found. At one point, Tony caught his gaze-his mask temporarily removed-with a look that screamed, "I told you so".

It was only when an assassin charged him, only to be mauled by a large smudge of brown, that Link appeared before them shortly after.

"E-Epona?"

The mare tossed her mane and neighed in greeting.

"There's . . . a horse," Clint observed incredulously. "What should we do with it?"

Before Steve could explain it to him, Link appeared out of one of the other corridors, fighting another Yiga. The teen dodged one of his enemy's violent slashes, returning it with one of his own. When their blades locked, he kicked the assassin's knee in **(owch)** and stabbed, being rewarded with an explosion of red light and tassels. He sheathed his sword, then looked in their direction. Blood seeped through his blonde hair, discoloring it orange.

"Link, what happened?" Steve asked.

The boy ignored him and glared menacingly in his direction, knocking an arrow on a bow that had appeared out of nowhere. Though he was about to talk him out of shooting him, Link released the bow string. Steve grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him out of the way-much to his displeasure-and watched as the arrow zipped past the rest of the team. Another assassin fell down in a burst of red streamers and smoke.

He turned back towards him. Link had lowered his bow, and was staring at him expectantly.

"You . . . wha . . . I . . ." Steve sputtered.

"I got pommeled," Link stated bluntly, as if he hadn't just nearly killed him.

Although shaken, he regained his composure. "So . . . they're here, then?"

He nodded. "Yes, and there are many. In fact-," he glanced warily at the path he had just come from, "-if I am correct, they are meeting for an exchange. However, whoever they are trading with hasn't arrived _yet_."

"How long 'til they get here?"

"Five minutes, from what I've overheard. When that happens, I can only assume that they will surround the building, scatter around the perimeter, and send the most important agents in. It won't even take an hour before they finish and leave."

He turned around towards the rest of the group. "Any volunteers?"

Everyone simultaneously pointed at Tony, who sighed and mumbled something awful under his breath. "Fine," he pouted, vanishing as a streak of red and blue.

"Anything else to note?"

"They seem to have higher ranked soldiers on hand-commanders, to narrow it down. They're stronger, smarter, and the rest will give their lives to protect them. Taking them on will not be an easy task."

"'Nothing we can't handle," Clint responded, shrugging his broad shoulders. "Lead the way, kid."

Link nodded, turning on his heel to go. Epona immediately followed in suit, trotting at his side like a love struck puppy **(that is a BIG puppy)**. Steve began following him, though his eyes were starting to ache a bit from the strain of trying to see ahead. Before he could voice this, however, Nat beat him to the punch.

"Does anyone have a flashlight? Even _I_ can barely see anything . . ."

The others murmured in agreement, while Link calmly pulled a small slab of stone from his belt-it was about the size of a phone. The soldier opened his mouth to ask the reason for such a thing when he pressed his index finger to one of the edges, the back of the small object glowing blue and orange in the dark. A cheerful chime emitted from his direction. When he held it out in front of him, blue light bathed the walls-just enough for someone to see.

"What is that?" Steve asked, pointing at it.

He turned back. "Sheikah Slate."

The boy didn't elaborate further as he trudged onward, holding the device outwards to produce more light. Although he felt nervous, the fact that his horse hadn't bolted in the opposite direction reassured him that they were far from danger. Then again, she had no problem with flattening enemies.

"So, tell us about these _Yiga_ characters," Thor asked out of the blue, swinging his hammer aimlessly.

"They're professional assassins-"

"Who were they trained by?" Nat cut Link off.

"They're mostly self taught; when they begin to develop comprehensible skills, they begin their training. After they have learned enough, they either sit around their hideout to await orders or go on the road, searching for any person unfortunate enough to cross paths with them."

"Where is their base?"

"They used to have one in a certain location, but . . ." His back straitened. "After their master was defeated, they evacuated. They mostly travel now."

"Hmm . . . where did they originate?"

"They come from a different tribe-known as the Sheikah-who were exiled from their practices thousands of years ago. After that, they became so resentful towards the royal family that they joined a demon's forces, engaging in dark magic."

"Magic?"

"Yes."

"Can _you _do magic?"

Link considered this. "I . . . I guess you _could _say that, yes."

"Do you fight with it?"

"I've only ever used it once in combat. It's too dangerous."

"What do the Yiga _want_, exactly?" Clint asked, curiosity leaking into his voice.

"The demon they serve can be reincarnated; in order for this to happen, however, they require special blood. As for the relic they're looking for," he shrugged, "I'm at a loss."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Let me guess; _you_ have this special blood?"

He nodded. "Yes; though, it can only be used if I were _dead_. If they took it from me while I was living, it would be useless to them."

He stopped abruptly, looking down two paths. After a few seconds of inspecting both, he turned left and kept on walking.

"That, and it's not only my blood that they need. Their master already has some of it; the rest of it is from a different person. Someone in the royal family."

Steve definitely knew that there was something wrong with him, now; the boy didn't talk with such choppy sentences. He might be close to going into shock.

"Why does this demonic essences need your blood?" Thor questioned. "What does it have to do with choosing sides?"

"Well, the demon they follow feeds off of anger and hatred-basically negativity in general. A selective few people are born or obtain a powerful source of magic and energy, which this demon already has a fraction of in its grasp. If Cala-_it_ were to gain this sort of power, it could easily destroy all of existence as we know it."

"So," Clint exclaimed, "what you're saying is that you and this other person are being chased down by a demon-who also has this power-for your _blood_?"

He nodded. "To put it bluntly, yes."

The boy pushed a door open at the end of the long hallway and stepped quietly up the stairs at the end. Epona, who was too large to enter or even walk up the staircase, trotted away down a different path, disappearing into the darkness.

"Link, how come you didn't tell me this before?" Steve asked, following behind him swiftly.

He spared a glance at him. "Time was short. I had to get you home as soon as possible. Besides, there is still so much that I am permitted to tell you."

Nat seemed amused by this as she hummed. "'Permitted'? Question-"

"Answer."

She smirked at his interruption. "-Who is the person who restricts your ability to provide information?"

He stopped for a moment to look at her, his head tilted to one side a bit in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday, you mentioned that you couldn't immediately accept our offer," Thor elaborated. "Could it be possible that your own decisions are limited to those of a royal family?"

Steve felt his heart trying to do jumping-jacks in his chest; he knew that pestering Link for information was not a great idea, if any of them valued what was good for them. He'd seen how quickly Link could fight. He knew that he was probably uncomfortable with it.

However, despite this, the alf in question kept a neutral expression. "There is only one remaining member of the royal family of my land. The rest died. Not only that, but my land was created by powerful deities, who created the energy that the demon desires, and they still communicate with some today; their power still remains in my land. Even the royal family bows down to someone. Besides, I have my own privacy."

With that, he turned back around and kept on walking, leaving the team in awkward silence.

When they did get to the top of the stairs, a door similar to the one Link had opened before sat in front of them. As he proceeded to try and grab it, the handle stood stubbornly in place.

"I can open it, kid," Clint said, pushing to the front of the group.

"I got it."

His grip on the knob tightened and the metal bent as he crushed it like a tin can in his fist, pulling it off as he pulled the door open. He stood to the side, gesturing forward with his hand.

"After you."

Steve stared at him in shock for a few seconds before walking ahead, the others trailing behind nervously.

"How did you do that?" Thor asked.

"I'm stronger than I look," he explained bluntly.

The moment he stepped through the doorway, something barreled right into him. At first, Steve expected it to somehow be Epona, though the figure that had tackled him was too small to be a horse. As he squinted in the darkness, he noticed that it was a person. As quickly as the man that was now on top of Link had come, he was kicked hard in the chest. Link returned his attack with one of his own, lunging and wrestling him to the ground.

"L-let go!" the attacker shouted, flailing his arms in a pathetic attempt to escape.

The boy did not release him as he requested, instead tightening his grip around his leg. The man thrashed, wrapping his arms around his and digging his nails into his sleeve. He wasn't quite choking him, but it didn't look like a comfortable position.

"Holy hell," Clint cursed incredulously. "Kid, you got that?"

The man kicked his legs out, squeaking and cursing in various foreign languages. Link responded in his own language, making his point by tightening his grip again.

Steve glanced at Nat, who looked just as confused as him. She nodded.

"Link," he began, turning towards the alf, "release him."

Before he could, the small rumble of someone snickering sounded at the end of the new corridor, growing into full on laughing, though there was no humor to accompany it.

"Ah, I would recommend that you listen to your human pets, _hero_," the owner of the laughing mocked, emerging from the dark. It was a woman with platinum blonde hair that glittered in the shadows, her dark clothes making it look like she was just a head, hands, and legs suspended in midair.

She smiled, her lipstick-glazed lips curling up in a sneer. "You heard them. Release my brother."

His eyes narrowed as he babbled the gibberish that was his tongue with a slightly bitter edge. In response, the fair woman flicked one of her luxurious locks over her shoulder.

"Don't get an attitude with _me_," she scoffed. "We Yiga happen to have a reliable ally in our cause; talking back to someone with such high status in our ranks would earn you death."

Her head turned a bit, as if she was just now choosing to get a proper look at Steve and the rest of the Avengers.

"Hmm . . . However, I can make an acceptance for once." She grinned again. "This building is surrounded by Hydra agents, and it is crawling with a fraction of the Yiga's remaining army. If you wish to get out of here alive, you need to either defeat us or hand over our bread. Will you?"

All of them shifted uncomfortably, trying not to seem intimidated.

". . . When you say, 'bread' . . ."

"Oh, the God of Thunder, Thor himself!" she beamed. "How rude of me; my name is _Riley_; I am the current leader of the Yiga Clan." Her smile melted into a frown. "Aah, but you wouldn't achieve much of our goal, now would you? We want," she pointed at Link, "_him_."

"Absolutely not," both Steve and the alf in question blurted, glancing at each other for a second.

A sigh ran through the room as she exhaled disappointedly, putting her hands on her hips. "Such a shame. I thought you were more reasonable than that." Her shoulders bounced up and then down again in a shrug. "Eh, whatever; I should've expected it, anyway."

Riley spun on her heel away-somehow without falling-and commanded nonchalantly, "Yiga, attack."

It was like an explosion of red and white as the warriors poured out of that side of the hallway, shoving each other aside to get to the group. In his moment of shock, Steve just managed to pull his shield in front of him to parry a blow from one of the fiends.

Link, on the other hand, was less stunned than the rest of them. He dropped the man in his arms like he was a doll, then proceeded to turn his attention to the other enemies approaching him. He kicked and punched, eventually drawing his sword to deal with them. His calmness was a bit alarming.

Returning to his own fight, Steve threw his shield at his own opponents and groped for his pistol, finding it quickly. Without further hesitation, he began hitting and shooting through his enemies **(that just gave me an image)**, trying to get to the boy. As he watched through his own battles, however, he noticed that the blue-clad alf would need little to no assistance. He used both his sword and body to beat the shit out of the Yiga, fighting a lot more violently than when he had tried to escape the Avengers the first time. Now, he was going for the kill.

At one point, his sword clattered to the floor unceremoniously while they swarmed him relentlessly. Instead of fighting desperately to retrieve it, he grabbed the nearest man to him and literally threw him into the others, knocking them down like living bowling pins **(*flashback to the Wii Sports vine*)**.

"Need help, kid?" Steve shouted over the commotion.

"No, thank you!" Link replied, punching a man hard in the face.

"Stop worrying about him," Natasha chastised from next to him, humor flashing in her green eyes. "He'll be fine."

Despite her words, the man was nervous. He knew that he wasn't in a state of danger; actually, it was the Yiga who were, in all honesty. However, that didn't mean that he wasn't on edge. The boy was injured; not seriously, but he could suffer from a concussion at any moment. That was enough to put him on edge.

Before he could say otherwise, he felt something slam into his side. Flat on his back on the ground, Steve looked up to see the assailant straddling his chest, a knife raised. Shit; it was that kid Link had fought earlier.

He instinctively covered his face - leaving his chest partially exposed - and twisted his body to one side, bucking his hips to try and get him off **(that actually is how you get a person off of you when you are pinned down)**. Unfortunately, the man on top of him grabbed his throat with his free hand and squeezed, somehow keeping enough balance to not be thrown off of him. Feeling his airway be breached, he tried to see through his red-tinted eyes for a place to strike.

With a loud shout and a yelp, the burden choking him was plowed down by another person. Link, who must've seen the whole occurence take place, tackled the man and showed his anger by trying his best to destroy him. Punch after punch, kick after kick, and their enemy was reduced to a lingering puff of smoke.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern written on his face. The blood on his face had begun to trickle down to his jawline.

Steve brought his hand to his neck, finding it to be a little sore. "Y-yes, thank you."

He nodded and then ran off, shouting in his language at some of the Yiga that were beginning to surround Thor.

Teenagers, he thought; they can't stay out of danger.

_Tony's POV_

It had been at least an hour since he had gotten the shit beaten out of him. Although the playboy would never admit it, those Hydra agents had gotten a lot stronger and had polished their aim skills. However, it wasn't like they won that battle.

He was just walking back to the van - only to get a First Aid box so that he could run back into the building - when he heard the loud noise of stone crumbling and crashing down behind him. Tony felt the ground shudder and quake beneath his feet, and in a few seconds, he saw the shapes of Natasha, Steve, and Thor rushing out of the failing building. The top floor had already caved in on the one below it.

"The hell happened?!" he shouted, jogging over to them.

Nat glanced at a small cut on her shoulder. "_Explosive arrows_ happened."

"Clint?"

"I have no idea. I didn't see who shot them."

"_No_," he retaliated, "where _is_ Clint? And, the kid?"

Steve looked like he was trying to swallow sawdust. "Still inside; one of the walls on the top floor fell through the ceiling. We were separated."

"Not for long," Thor corrected.

He turned around. "What do you mean?"

The god pointed in the direction of the chaos, frowning. At first, Stark was considering the fact that Point Break was hallucinating, but after squinting he saw what he did. Some of the stones that had fallen around the bottom floor shifted unnaturally, some of the smaller ones skidding across the old parking lot. After watching in apprehensive confusion for about a minute, it seemed as though part of the night busted out, jumping high as it galloped quickly towards them. It was the kid's horse.

Before the large mare could flatten them, the rider tugged on the reins, immediately getting off and picking up the person that had been draped over their lap only a few seconds ago. It was Link, with an unconscious Barton.

"Kid, are you okay?" Steve asked immediately, stepping forward. He merely nodded and sat the agent in his arms down onto the ground. That's when Tony saw it - a large gash on Clint's left leg.

"Holy shit!" he blurted, kneeling down with the first aid kit in his hand.

Link pulled something out of his pocket - a small bottle with red liquid sloshing around inside - and put it out in front of Natasha, offering it to her.

"What is this for?" she asked.

"It could become infected," he explained calmly. "You will want to give him this before it does."

She nodded, uncorking it with her teeth. Leaning over him, she managed to wedge his mouth open and pour a small amount through his lips. He didn't even react, he was so out.

After doing that, she handed him what was left of the substance in the bottle. While she had been doing that, he had opened the red medical bag and pulled out a few cleaning wipes, first cleaning his bloodied hands, then pulling surgical gloves over his leather ones.

The kid took the bottle and sat it next to him, then proceeded to clean the deep cut. When he was done, he poured a small amount of the liquid into it, then corked it and left it next to him, grabbing quaze and stitches.

"Woah," Steve said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "With all due respect, are you sure about that?"

He nodded. "We can't leave the wound open. He could bleed to death, or it could get worse. We have no choice but to stitch it up."

With that, he grabbed a few cotton balls and antiseptic, wetting them with the substance, and using two on the wound, one for the needle and thread. Once he was finished, he took the needle and began stitching the wound, keeping each stitch less than half an inch apart from the other. **(I actually had to use a few sources to find out how you stitch up a wound and what your average first aid kit has. If you want to improve your writing, you can research things online. I recommend Yahoo Answers.)**

It was around five minutes before he was finished. Link put down the materials and took the gauze out without a second glance. After stretching it out, he began wrapping his leg over his pants leg; even Tony knew that was a bad idea, but judging by the fact that the two didn't know each other, the kid would probably not want to see Clint's thigh. Cutting it with the medical scissors, he placed the rest of the roll of bandages into the kit and pulled out the small roll of duct tape, ripped off a strip, and used it to secure the wrap.

Link pulled off the gloves and placed them into one of the Ziploc bags inside, treating the dirty equipment into a separate one. His bare hands were bruised and bloody from punching so many people, though he still dressed them with hand sanitizer with a straight face.

He looked up at their shocked faces with his unfazed and bloody one.

"What is it?"

* * *

**That took a long time to write. I apologise, but a lot of crap has gone down lately, and I've been super stressed out lately. Fortunately, the coronavirus has let school out for a month, so at least I'll have time to write. Wash your hands and stay safe, my little Dorkchops!**


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